Wonderful Christmas Time
by Slayergirl
Summary: Nobody should be alone at Christmas. Sookie's surprised to find that she isn't. Set during the Christmas period after 'All Together Dead', but the events of 'From Dead To Worse' haven't happened. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Christmas Eve

**A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Here's the first chapter of a very fluffy fic that I hope to be updating in real time (ish...) over the Christmas period.**

* * *

In hindsight – which is a wonderful thing – listening to the Bon Temps Christmas radio station whilst putting up my decorations on Christmas Eve, knowing that I would be spending Christmas alone, was probably a bad idea. Normally it would make me cheerful, but Mariah Carey chirpily warbling that 'all I want for Christmas is you-oo-oo, baby,' George Michael expostulating (word of the day) that 'last Christmas I gave you my heart', and David Essex lamenting that 'it's hard to be alone at this time of year' all made for an unhappy Sookie.

It was hard not to think, not of last Christmas, but of New Year, stopping for an amnesiac Eric on New Year's Eve, and of the wonderful few days he'd spent with me. I missed him. I missed him so badly it hurt. He'd been keeping his distance of late, and I wasn't dumb enough to expect that to change all of a sudden. It wasn't as if I'd given him any encouragement, after all; far from it. I was still too confused about my feelings for him; afraid of them, afraid they wouldn't be reciprocated. Afraid they _would_.

By the time Sarah McLachlan crooned her Wintersong, I couldn't take it any more. I broke down and cried.

_Lake is frozen over,  
__Trees are white with snow,  
__And all around reminders of you  
__Are everywhere I go._

_It's late and morning's in no hurry,  
__But sleep won't set me free.  
__I lie awake and try to recall  
__How your body felt beside me._

_When silence gets too hard to handle,  
__And the night too long…_

_And this is how I see you  
__In the snow on Christmas morning.  
__Love and happiness surround you  
__As you throw your arms up to the sky:  
__I keep this moment by and by._

_Oh, how I miss you now, my love.  
__Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas,  
__Merry Christmas, my love…_

I don't know how long I spent there, curled up on the couch, bawling my eyes out, feeling so utterly, horribly alone. Without realising what I was doing, something inside me reached out, as if trying to find some kind of comfort; and immediately, a feeling of warmth and comfort surrounded me, so loving that it felt like an embrace, and I leant into it, finally sitting up and drying my eyes. I gave a watery laugh at myself for being an idiot.

Whatever it was, it felt good, and I felt better. I gave a final sniff, blew my nose, and sent out a whispered 'thank you' to the unknown source of my comfort. I ate my dinner, then hesitated; I shook my head at myself as I hung a battered old felt Christmas stocking by the fireplace. I wasn't exactly expecting Santa Claus, so why I did it, I don't know. Just tradition, I guess. I went to bed early, and though I tossed and turned a little fretfully, I eventually fell asleep.

I was woken by the sounds of soft rustling in the living room; I was no longer alone in the house. Even on Christmas Eve, I found it unnerving, and grabbed Jason's shotgun from its hiding place as I padded to see who was there.

"Okay, hands where I can see them," I snarled at the figure by the tree. Who chuckled, and raised his hands.

"I was putting presents under your tree, not stealing them."

I dropped the shotgun in shock, and yelped as it fell on my toe. "_Eric?_"

I followed the graceful movement as he rose to full height, taking in the boots, jeans, sleeveless tee – and somewhat incongruous Santa hat perched on the top of his head.

"Merry Christmas?" he offered.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, bewildered. In response, he simply swept his hand to the rest of the room, and I gasped; I hadn't noticed the transformation. "Eric, you…" I had to stop; my throat seemed to close in on itself.

"You dislike it?" he asked, his tone a little disappointed.

I shook my head, taking in the little things that added a more festive touch than I'd managed with Gran's old decorations, somehow. Scarlet and gold ribbons had been used to hang pine cones in strategic places, and a garland was swagged above the fire. There was a large log in the fireplace; the fire was unlit, however. There were more pine cones around the base of the log, I supposed to act as kindling. In front of the fire was a bag of chestnuts, neat crosses cut into the shells, ready for roasting. Even the tree had little touches; here and there, I spied little carved wooden ornaments – stars and reindeer and snowflakes. "It's beautiful," I said, and it really was; it was like the epitome of every Christmas scene you could possibly wish for.

I realised I was crying again, and with a bound across the room, he had me in his arms. "Then why these tears?"

I gave a shaky laugh. "I felt so – miserable, earlier. And now… this… you've done all this…"

"I know, Sookie," he said softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't come to you sooner."

"You knew?" I gasped.

He touched my face, very lightly, with his fingertips. "You reached out for me," he said softly. "I could feel your unhappiness, your misery, your need for comfort, through the bond." He kissed the top of my head. "I did as much as I could to ease your sorrow."

"That… that was you?"

"Mm. You could feel it, then?"

I smiled a little. "Yes. Yes, I felt it." I looked up at him. "It was like being hugged."

He smiled faintly. Surprisingly, he drew back. "Do you usually have a Yule log?"

I glanced at the fireplace. "Yes," I replied. "Gran liked that tradition."

"You have the remains of last year's log?" he asked softly, and I gulped, eyes threatening to spill over again. I was being a real Weeping Willa this evening.

"I have it." I brought it out of the box I kept it stashed in for safekeeping, but hesitated as I handed it over. He gave me a questioning look. "It was… it was this log burning, when we… last year," I stammered.

"Yes," he said thoughtfully. "Yes, it would have been." He gestured towards the fireplace. "Sometimes, Sookie, you have to let go of the past to make way for the future." My hands started shaking. "And doesn't that terrify you?" he added softly.

I let him take the remains of the log without a fight, not answering his question. I found myself shivering uncontrollably as I watched him light the remains of last year's log, and set fire to the pine cones, their flames licking and eventually taking hold of the new log. The clock on the mantel shelf showed it was just midnight.

He stood again, once the fire was crackling away merrily, and held his hand out to me. I went to him slowly; I wasn't sure what was happening, and I was as nervous as hell. The Eric standing in my living room wasn't quite like either of the Erics I'd previously thought I'd known.

He drew me close, near the fire, and though it warmed me, my shivering increased almost threefold. His hand cupped my face. "Sookie?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. His eyes flicked upwards. "It is tradition."

I glanced up, and realised he'd pinned a bunch of mistletoe near the fireplace before I'd interrupted his work, and we were standing right under it. Dry-mouthed, and suddenly unable to speak, I merely nodded in permission.

"_It has been writ that any man may blameless kiss what maid he can; nor anyone shall say him 'no' beneath the holy mistletoe_," he murmured, bending his head to kiss me.

My hands rested lightly on his biceps, and I closed my eyes as our lips met. It was a very different kiss to any we'd shared before; intimate, tender, and gentle. My eyes fluttered open again as he pulled back, and reached up to the mistletoe, plucking a berry, and handing it to me. "Thank you," I whispered, taking it from him with trembling fingers.

"It is a Norse tradition, you know," he murmured. "When the god Baldur, killed by mistletoe, was eventually brought back from the dead, his mother, the goddess Frigga, decreed that mistletoe would henceforth bring love, not death, to the world. To kiss under the mistletoe was to honour the goddess."

"I didn't know that," I replied.

"There are many traditions whose origins are lost, but for ancient writings and the memories of those few of us who still survive who remember."

It was so quiet, so peaceful and calm, that it didn't feel odd to ask him. "Tell me about some of them?"

He smiled. "Very well, but first you must open this." He took a big, bulky gift from behind the tree, and presented it to me. I looked at him askance, and he chuckled. "You will understand, I think. Open it."

"I didn't get you anything," I said, crestfallen.

"You are gift enough," he replied, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I opened the present carefully, and shook out a beautiful white faux-fur blanket, thick, warm, and soft. "It's like the one in your calendar," I said.

"Oh – yes, it's identical," he said. "I hoped you would enjoy the reminder."

I smiled, and blinked as he casually tossed a couple of cushions from the couch on the floor, settling himself down with his head on them, sprawled out on my floor in front of the fire. He turned his head to look up at me, and held his arm out in invitation. I shook with nerves again, realising what he was doing; I remembered telling him we'd spent time like this when he'd stayed with me. I gulped, and lay down beside him, letting him arrange the blanket over us.

Its warmth and weight were comforting. I snuggled hesitantly into Eric's side, as he wrapped his arm around me under the blanket, settling my head on his chest. "I've missed this," I sighed.

"You should have said," he said, his voice soft, almost dreamy.

"I had a hard time admitting it, even to myself," I replied. "And it only really hit me this evening."

His fingers played with my hair. "This… is important to you?"

"Talking, spending time, just being together? Yes," I said, my eyes closing. "Before… you didn't know anyone or anything but me. I was your safety, your rock, your world. You were… there," I said, trying to explain. "I was… I was important to you."

"Was?" I didn't respond. I was too close to tears – again. "Sookie, my darling, if you think you're not important to me, then ask yourself why I'm here now."

I bit my lip so hard it started to bleed, and he made a soft sound of discontent. "Lover, enough harm comes to you, without you bringing it on yourself," he said. His tongue glided over my lip, flicking away the few drops of blood, and healing it. Then he pulled me closer, wrapping me in his arms, and I felt the same feeling flooding through me as earlier, and my weepiness abated. "Better?"

I nodded sleepily. "Can we just… stay here for a while?" I asked drowsily.

"Yes, my lover," he murmured. "Sleep, now. You are weary."

I let my eyes flutter closed, mind and body relaxing into the warmth of the fire, the blanket covering me, the arms encircling me, and the bond that was flooded with feelings of love and comfort.


	2. Christmas Day Part 1

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and follows so far! I hope you continue to enjoy sharing Eric and Sookie's Christmas. This is the first chapter for Christmas Day itself (more to follow tomorrow). Merry Christmas!**

* * *

I woke up in my own bed, but I was covered with that gorgeous, luxurious blanket, so I realised Eric must have carried me through and tucked me in before heading off. I had a bit of a lump in my throat; if it hadn't been for the very real blanket covering me, I might have thought it was all a dream, so I was glad he'd thought to cover me over with it. I was sorry that he'd had to go, but knew it was inevitable. Part of me was sorry not to have been able to say good bye, to thank him for his company, his gift, but I was also touched that he'd ensured my comfort and a good night's sleep.

I stretched luxuriantly, and giggled as I realised that Eric hadn't actually bothered with my 'normal' bedclothes; I was sleeping under his gift, and nothing else. I snuggled back under it, feeling too comfortable to want to move just yet, despite the cold winter sunlight filtering in. I turned my head to look at my alarm clock, and found it obscured by an expensive-looking sheet of paper. I flipped onto my side to read it.

_Sookie, my darling ~_

_It is near dawn, and you are sleeping peacefully, curled in your bed under my Christmas gift. I wish to stay longer, but the sun calls me to my rest, as he will wake you from yours. But I will return when he bids the world a good night, and the moon and stars smile down once more._

_E._

I smiled at his poetic turn of phrase (something that always took me by surprise when it made itself known); did that mean he'd be coming back at dusk, then? I hoped it did. I'd been too tired, overwhelmed, and emotional, to properly enjoy snuggling in front of the fire with Eric again. I was enjoying it a lot in retrospect, of course, but though it was already mid-morning, I felt that night couldn't come quickly enough.

Still, I dragged myself from my bed (and the sinfully soft blanket), and into the shower, then made myself a coffee and breakfast. I hesitated when I saw the gifts under the tree. Some were for other people – they'd be delivered tomorrow. Some were from friends and co-workers. But quite a few hadn't been there the night before when I went to bed (for the first time). I looked at a few of the labels curiously; some were from Eric, some from Pam. I decided that I wouldn't open those; I'd wait for Eric to return.

I began to cook lunch, and was startled by a visitor coming to the door. I hadn't expected anyone, so I hadn't made anything fancy. I wiped my hands clean, and went to the door, and was surprised to see who my visitor was.

"Great-grandfather!" I greeted Niall delightedly. I was fond of my fae family, such as they were.

"Greetings, Sookie, my dear. May I come in?"

"Of course, come on in. Some sweet tea?"

He smiled gently. "Thank you. No lemon," he reminded me, though it wasn't necessary. "How are you enjoying the holiday season?"

I gave him a brilliant smile. "Pretty well, thank you. I've had a couple of unexpected visitors who've brightened things up for me."

"Oh?"

"You, of course; and Eric brought some gifts from himself and Pam round last night," I said, wondering how Niall would take that piece of news. Yes, I was nervous about that – fairies and vampires don't generally get on, though Niall and Eric tolerated each other more than most.

Surprisingly, Niall's look was one of delighted mischief. "Did he, indeed?"

I couldn't help but smiling a little wider. "He did, and stayed a little while to keep me company."

"The Viking is a good man," he said. "I might not have chosen a vampire as a mate for one of my kin, but your heart is your own, and it has chosen well."

I was stumped. My 'mate'? 'Chosen' Eric? Had I? "Um…"

Niall gave me an amused look. "Had you not, you would not look so radiantly happy even at the mention of his name," he said. "True, the fae feel happiness when close to their own kind, but even my presence, powerful as it is, could not evoke such light in you." He kissed my forehead. "I am happy for you," he assured me.

I hugged him, and felt that light blossom and grow in me. "Thank you."

He stayed and ate lunch with me, listening to my sappy musings about Eric, and my mundane stories of my life since I'd last seen him. He got up to go with some regret, just as the sun was starting to set. "I have a gift for you," he said in his ethereal way. "For you, and for your vampire lover. Something for you to share." He handed to me what looked to be a golden apple.

"He can't eat," I said dubiously.

He laughed. "He will be able to eat that," he told me. "It is magical, of course."

I looked at it. "What will it do?"

He smiled. "Tell the Viking it is one of the Apples of Iduna, if he does not immediately recognise it as such. He will understand – and will no doubt tell you the tale far better than I, for it is of his world, his story, more than mine."

"Thank –" he put a finger to my lips.

"Not for this," he said softly. "This must be freely given and taken, with no debt."

I nodded, and hugged him tightly instead, feeling the strength of his essence flood through me, round me, in me. He held me just as tightly for a long while, then eventually released me. "Share that with him as soon as he arrives," he told me. Then he was gone.

It seemed like only a few moments before I sensed the familiarity of Eric's void – and the feeling of comfort his closeness brought, due to the bond. I went to open the door, the apple in my hand.

He bent to kiss my cheek, and raised an eyebrow. "Fee Fie Fae Fum?"

"Niall," I laughed, understanding the reference. "He came to spend the day with me. He brought this for us," I said, showing him the apple. "He said we should share it as soon as you got here." I looked at his slightly disbelieving face. "He said it's one of the Apples of Iduna, and you'd know what that meant."

"I do. A costly gift," he whispered reverently. "A noble, kingly gift. They are not easy to come by. It would cost a prince's ransom several times over." He took a penknife from his pocket, and cut the apple in two. He handed a perfect half to me. "Eat, lover."

"What will it do to me?" I asked uncertainly.

"Sookie, the Apples of Iduna are also known as the Apples of Youth," he said. "How eating one will affect us, I can only guess, but in this, I trust Niall, and the gods of my people. I will tell you the tales of Bragi and Iduna, of Skadi and Niord, of Frey and Freya, of Loki the Trickster, and many more, if you wish. But eat, first; if Niall said this, he would have had reason for it."

I took a dubious nibble, but the apple was delicious, and even though I'd eaten well at lunchtime, I found I couldn't stop eating it. Eric, too, ate his share, his eyes closed in pleasure at the flavour. "It's like eating sunlight," I sighed.

He smiled, licking the last drops of juice from his fingers, and cleaning his knife. "Altogether less deadly," he laughed, and I gasped. "What? What is it?"

"You're glowing brighter," I said.

"I forget that you can see magic," he replied, eyes sparkling.

I looked at him, fascinated. "Your irises are swirling."

He grinned. "Don't worry, it's a magic apple, not a magic mushroom. No bad trips, I promise you."

I was relieved at that. I didn't think Niall would give me anything dangerous – well, not deliberately, at least – but I was still wary of magical gifts, and it was only Eric's ease about eating the apple that had convinced me to eat it. "They've settled down, now," I told him, peering at his eyes, which had returned to their normal arctic blue.

He nodded. "Yours, too."

"Mine did that?" I asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes," he said cheerfully. "You glowed, as well."

I went to check in the mirror, but I looked completely normal. I shook my head; I felt lighter inside, warmer, but otherwise no different.

When I returned, Eric had heated himself a True Blood, and had set some of the chestnuts roasting for me. "You haven't opened your presents," he commented.

"I was waiting for you," I said. "Besides, I woke up in one of them. And last night…"

"Yes?"

"Last night was… a gift," I whispered. "More than just the blanket. To be… to have…" I couldn't find the words, but he understood.

"And here we are again now," he said softly. "But there are other gifts, some from Pam, and she will not be pleased if you don't open them."

"Well, which should I open first, then?" I asked.

"I'm instructed that you should open the long thin one first," he said gravely, the corner of his mouth curving up slightly, and I grinned, imagining Pam bossing Eric around. I gathered only too well that most vampire makers would never allow the kind of liberty Eric allowed Pam, but he was – for the most part – remarkably good-natured about her ways. Eric Northman, I suspected, liked strong, feisty women.

I opened the gift he'd indicated, and gasped. "That's not…"

Eric shook his head, amused by the misgiving in my voice. "No, not silver," he reassured me. "White gold."

"But… it… it must have… cost a fortune," I stuttered.

"Sookie," he said, very gently, "Pam owes you her existence. She does not forget this, nor treat it lightly. She may not be able to say the words, but it touched her deeply that you tried to rouse her first, even before me. She gives you these pretty baubles because she cannot find the words to express what it means to her – what is all the money in the world, if you are not there to spend it?"

"She – you – you're my friends," I objected. "I couldn't let you…" I couldn't say the word. "I couldn't do nothing," I said, finally, grammar flying out of the window. "I'm not like that."

He inclined his head in acknowledgement of that. "Nonetheless," he said firmly, "Pam and I were your first thoughts. Not only did we escape with our existences, we escaped the worst injuries, such as those suffered by those of other areas."

"But…"

"Sookie, do not belittle what you did," he said. "Pam is grateful, and wishes to express it in her own way. Please do not throw it back in her face."

I flushed. "I don't mean to," I sighed. "It just – it's just unexpected, that's all. I don't feel as though I've done anything to deserve it."

"You think so little of yourself, my lover," he smiled. He took the beautiful, delicate, sapphire-set necklace, and fastened it round my neck. "The stones are a perfect match to your eyes," he mused. "She has an excellent eye for these things."

Her other gifts were a blue pashmina and matching clutch, in the same blue as the sapphires, and a pair of earrings that matched the necklace. "I think Pam needs a doll to dress up," I laughed.

Eric grinned. "Why, when she has you?" When I glared, he just laughed. "She once told me she would have liked a sister to dress, someone whose hair she could braid."

"Did she…"

"Yes, it's Pam who braids my hair," he chuckled, eyes twinkling. "This is from me," he said, indicating a large parcel.

I looked askance at him. "You've done so much already."

He shook the chestnuts on their shovel, and didn't answer immediately. "I, too, owe you my existence. I do not that forget that any more than Pam does. I know that… not all was well between us then," he said. "You realise, if you had turned your back on us, you would have been free of the bond?"

I swallowed. "I know."

"You chose to save me," he said, still looking at the chestnuts, as if they were the most fascinating things in the world. I shifted uneasily.

"I might not have happy about the bond, but I didn't want you dead."

He turned to look at me, his eyes intense and dark in the low lighting – I'd only lit a couple of lamps, and the fire, for light. "No?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Because of what happened when I lost my memories?" he asked.

"No." I grimaced. "Well, not just that."

He looked at me thoughtfully, but to my relief, he didn't continue with that train of questioning. "Open the rest of your presents, Sookie; the chestnuts are nearly ready, and then it will be time for a story."

I couldn't help but feel my lips quirk into a smile, but opened them; some beautifully bound books, including a translation of some of the Norse sagas, which surprised and touched me; a new (collector's edition) DVD of _Gone With The Wind_ – my old one was on its way out; and a tiny box that I looked at with deep misgiving. I flipped it open; inside was a key. "Eric?"

He gave a faint (sheepish?) smile. "You are my bonded; you should have the key to my house. In case of emergencies," he added swiftly, at the look on my face. "I will have to show you how to work the security system, of course, but you are free to come and go as you please."

"I've never even been there," I objected.

"I hope to rectify that," he answered, but he didn't press the issue. "If you will bring the blanket, I think it is time for a story."


	3. Christmas Day Part 2

**A/N: The version of the story I'm using is paraphrased from Roger Lancelyn Green's _Myths of the Norsemen_, Puffin Books, 1980 - first published as _The Saga of Asgard_ in 1960. The anglicised Norse names are from his version too (this is where my love of all things Norse came from - when Eric wandered into my life, I didn't stand a chance...).**

* * *

I cursed softly as I tried to peel the shell off one of the chestnuts; before I could react any further, Eric had given me a reprimanding look, and grabbed hold of my hand. "You," he said severely, "are accident-prone." But he sucked my poor, burnt fingers in a far-from-chaste way, until I was fluttering so much inside that I'd forgotten what had initiated it in the first place.

Then he kissed each fingertip gently, dropped my hand back into my lap, and peeled my chestnuts for me. I pressed my fingers – the burns had gone. "Did you just…"

He quirked his eyebrow at me, and I almost forgot what I was about to ask (is it strange to find a raised eyebrow sexy?). "I pierced my tongue on a fang, and healed you with my blood, yes." He shelled the last chestnut deftly. "I would rather we enjoyed our evening, and it would not be so enjoyable if you were in pain."

"Thank you," I said meekly, and was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

"You are most welcome, Sookie, my darling," he said, and settled himself on the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He held his hand over the bowl he'd put the shelled chestnuts in, and nodded. "I think they are safe now."

I scooted over to sit next to him, but he lifted me, and settled me in front of him. He pulled the blanket over us, and I leaned back against his chest hesitantly, extremely aware of how close we were, how intimate this was, with me sitting between his legs. He didn't seem to notice, placing the bowl of chestnuts on my lap, and wrapping his arms around me. "The apples of Iduna?" I asked.

"Iduna, the Lady of Youth, was the wife of Bragi, the Lord of Poesy, and Bragi was the son of Odin, the Allfather," he said, his voice taking on a sonorous, mellifluous quality (they'd been words of the day last week, and I liked them). "In the early years of the world, Bragi and Iduna came to Asgard, the home of the gods, to dwell there with the Æsir. Bragi became their minstrel, and Iduna, who had brought with her the Apples of Youth, would give to each of the Æsir an apple after their feasting; for even the gods age with time, and they knew that the time would come when they would need to be prepared for a great battle with the Giants. The apple granted youth to return to them at the end of each day, ever renewing them; and no matter how many apples were taken from the casket, still it remained full."

Eric paused, and I held my breath; I was already spell-bound; he had a gift for story-telling.

"But word of the apples reached the Giants, and they desired them greatly. They tried in vain, many times, to steal them; but only the Æsir can enter Asgard, so they could not reach them; and when Iduna visited Midgard, she left the apples behind, so they were thwarted in their endeavours."

I set the bowl – now empty, I must have wolfed down the chestnuts without noticing – on the floor, and snuggled back into Eric's arms. He re-arranged the blanket, so it covered more of us, and shifted slightly to a more comfortable position, his knees now bent, his legs snuggling my hips. Strangely – it being Eric – it didn't actually feel in any way sexual. Intimate, yes; but not sexual.

"One day, Odin and his brother Honir, the Shining One, were travelling through Midgard, and their travels brought them close to Jotunheim, the realm of the Giants. There, they were greeted by a young man, who knew their names and parentage. At first, they were suspicious, but the man revealed that he was their cousin, Loki, and begged their leave to travel with them and prove his worth. They agreed to this, and soon he did indeed prove his worth, for he was clever and resourceful, and his cunning was great. He also, as did Odin, had the power to change himself into any shape he wished."

He paused again, and I found myself wondering about shape-shifting in general – where had they first come from? 'No smoke without fire,' Gran would have said. Even back then, they had tales of shifters. Maybe they knew something we didn't.

"They travelled long in the mountains, but food was scarce, and they were greatly hungry. Coming suddenly into a valley, they discovered many oxen, and rejoiced, killing one, and setting it over a fire to roast on a spit, Loki having kindled fire by rubbing two sticks together. After an hour, he checked the meat, thinking it must be cooked; but still it was raw. He set it back over the fiercest flames for another hour, but even so, it was still uncooked."

Two hours to cook a very big steak? I'd have been willing to try steak tartare at that point, I suspected, though normally the idea of raw meat was distinctly off-putting.

"Loki was greatly puzzled, and discussed with his travelling companions what had happened, when, from the trees above them, a loud voice called down to them, telling them they would never cook the meat without his help. It was a great eagle, and they agreed to let him eat his fill if he would help them. But when the meat was cooked, he ate his fill, and left so little for the hungry, weary travellers that Loki flew up in a rage, and taking a branch from the ground, struck the eagle with it."

I had a feeling the story wasn't going to end well, and shivered. Eric responded by tucking the blanket further round me, and snuggling me further back into his arms, brushing his lips briefly to my cheek. I relaxed back against him, and gazed into the fire, my head resting on his shoulder.

"The eagle rose, and flew into the air, the branch sticking to its feathers, and Loki sticking to the branch; and struggle as he might, he could not get free. The eagle dragged him over rocks and thorns, until Loki began to beg for his life, offering a reward if the eagle would let him go free. Now, the eagle, who was a Giant in disguise, demanded Loki bring Iduna and the apples out of Asgard to him, and though Loki was horrified, and argued as hard as he could, eventually, he had to agree."

Poor Loki, I thought. He hadn't wanted harm to come to Iduna, but this Giant… "What was the Giant's name?" I whispered, not wanting to break the spell of his story. I felt his lips curve into a smile on my temple.

"He was Thiassi, the Storm Giant," he replied, just as softly, as though he was under his own spell, too.

"Thiassi," I murmured, hoping I would remember all these names.

He nodded. "Thiassi took Loki back to Odin and Honir, and he made no mention of his agreement with the Giant, saying only that he had been justly punished for striking the eagle, to whom the ox had belonged in the first place. They suspected nothing; and indeed, Odin was so pleased with Loki that he gave him a place to live in Midgard, close by to the Bifrost Bridge, the bridge to Asgard which is guarded by Heimdall the Far-Sighted, and Odin would go there often to visit him and ask for his advice."

I couldn't help thinking that maybe Odin was a little but _too_ trusting, even if Loki was his own cousin. Still, maybe I'd have done the same, who knows?

"Loki did not forget his promise to Thiassi, and when Iduna and Bragi walked out in Midgard, becoming separated for a moment, he saw his chance, and, in disguise, told Iduna that he'd seen apples such as hers growing in a wood close by. He was cunning and persuasive, and she agreed to bring her own apples the next day to compare; for if they were the same, she knew she must pluck them, so only the Æsir might eat of them."

I winced; talk about a rock and a hard place.

"Loki wasted no time in informing Thiassi; and so it was that, when Iduna emerged into Midgard the next day, Thiassi was ready, and snatched her up, taking her to Thrymheim, the Kingdom of the Winds, which is deep in Jotunheim. There he held her captive, offering to make her his queen if she would give him the apples of youth. But Iduna loved Bragi, and would yield neither herself nor her apples to her captor."

I couldn't help but smile, remembering his frequent utterances of 'yield to me, Sookie!'. He dropped a kiss on my shoulder, perhaps remembering that, too, and resumed his tale.

"So Iduna languished in Jotunheim, and age began to touch the gods, as Bragi mourned her loss. Odin sent out his ravens, Hugin and Munin, to search for her, and eventually they brought word of her captivity. After much discussion, Odin went to Loki, asking for his help. Loki agreed, and Odin made him one of the Æsir, able to enter Asgard, and bound him with great and terrible oaths; and he made Loki his blood-brother. So, with the blood of the Æsir running in his veins, Loki set out to retrieve the Lady Iduna, leaving instructions for his return."

Lady Iduna, who he'd got into trouble in the first place, I thought grimly. I wondered what the instructions were, but I didn't want to disrupt Eric's story by asking.

"Loki turned himself into a falcon, and flew to Thrymheim, and with no further ado, he turned Iduna and her casket of apples into a nut, and flew back towards Asgard. However, Thiassi became aware his captive had escaped, and turned himself into an eagle and set out in pursuit. Watching from Asgard, the gods watched the falcon fly valiantly towards them, the eagle nearing closer and closer. Following Loki's instructions, they built a bonfire, and as the falcon dropped behind the shelter of the walls, they lit it. Thiassi, travelling too quickly to turn or stop, crashed into the fire and was burnt, and the Æsir quickly dispatched him. Then they welcomed Loki and Iduna back into their midst."

He curled a lock of my hair round his finger thoughtfully.

"They celebrated Iduna's return, and ate again of the apples of youth. But trouble was still at hand; the very next day, a Giant maiden came striding across Midgard, threatening vengeance for her father; for she was none other than Skadi, daughter of Thiassi. Odin did not wish to fight, and asked her to name her weregild – her blood-price – for her father; but she refused gold, for gold she had in plenty. Instead, she asked to choose a husband from amongst the Æsir, and that they make her laugh, for it was something she had never done."

Never? I found that hard to believe, but still, a story is a story.

"They discussed this amongst themselves, and finally agreed, but decreed that she must choose her husband by his feet alone."

I bit back a giggle, remembering Jason's comments about the size of Eric's feet. In Eric's case, that saying really did hold true – and how.

"She agreed, and chose the most beautiful feet, thinking that she had chosen Baldur the Beautiful; but it was instead Niord of Vanaheim who was her choice, for the Vanir are very fair to behold. However, they were both content with their lot, and were married; and Loki played such pranks at their wedding feast that Skadi laughed aloud, thus fulfilling the compact with Odin. They divided their time between Thrymheim and Noatun by the sea, Niord's abode; and it was there in Noatun that two beautiful children were born to Niord and Skadi: Frey, the Lord of Fruitfulness and Bountiful Peace, and his sister Freya, the Lady of Love and Beauty."

I gave a sigh, feeling as though I'd somehow been released from a spell. "You're a good story-teller," I told him.

He chuckled. "I'm good at many things, Sookie."

I giggled. "Oh, hush."

He nuzzled the side of my neck, but I didn't feel remotely threatened; somehow, I knew he wouldn't bite me without my explicit permission. Probably, knowing Eric, as explicit as possible, in every way. "Vikings were not all about bloodthirsty battles," he said softly. "We valued other things as well. We traded, we told stories and recited poetry and sang songs, we feasted and celebrated life, we carved wood and bone and stone, we made jewels and buckles and all manner of other metal items. We raised livestock and fished in the sea. We married and had children. We went raiding only to find more hospitable lands to live in than our own." He nibbled at my ear, and I shivered. "In that, we were probably not unlike any other race of people trying to survive."

"I guess not," I said. I let my eyes drift closed for a moment. "Did you make the carvings on the tree?"

"Mm-hmm."

Something inside me melted at the thought of those (big, big) hands whittling little pieces of wood into delicate snowflakes to hang on my tree. I swallowed. "Can you show me how?"

"Mm. But not tonight, lover," he replied, voice lazy. "Too comfortable." I craned my head round to look at him, and he brushed his lips to mine. "Tomorrow night," he promised. "Tomorrow, I will show you."


	4. Boxing Day Part 1

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews - I hope you keep on enjoying this!**

* * *

Claudine, my fairy cousin-godmother, popped in to see me the next day, and when I say popped, that's exactly what I mean. One minute she wasn't there, the next she was.

"Hello, cousin!" she greeted me brightly as I got back from delivering the last of my Christmas presents, as if it were perfectly normal for her to drop in for a social call mid afternoon. Actually, she just popped in whenever she felt like it – normally when I was in trouble of some sort. Though I liked her a lot, it did mean that I tended to worry when she turned up without warning.

"Claudine, hi," I said. "Can I get you a drink?"

"No, no," she chirped. "You're looking well," she added.

"Thanks, you too," I answered, though she always looked utterly gorgeous.

She gave me a sidelong, furtive look. "So, how are things?"

Ah; by 'things', I guessed she meant 'with Eric'. "So-so. Niall came by yesterday," I said, not playing along.

"Yes, he mentioned he might. I was going to, but I got the feeling he wanted you to himself for a little while," she said.

Hm. I wondered what my fae family were up to – clearly they'd been talking about me. "You don't know anything about the Apples of Iduna, do you?" I asked, as I still wasn't sure quite what Niall's intention had been by giving me one to share with Eric, and wanted to see what, if anything, Claudine knew.

"Oh, if you want to know about them, Eric's the best person to ask," she said, a little too eagerly, I thought. "You should give him a call. He'll know. They're from Norse mythology, you know."

O-kay. "You think I should call Eric?" I asked. Clearly Claudine wasn't aware of his visits the last couple of nights, then.

"Yes," she said with relief, nodding vigorously. "Definitely."

"Okay, Claudine, what gives?" I asked. "Why so keen on me calling him?"

"You wanted to know about the Apples of Iduna," she said reasonably, but there was a slight discomfort in her stance.

"And?" I asked.

Her shoulders slumped. "Fine," she huffed. "He called me."

I was gob-smacked. "Let me get this straight. _Eric_ called you."

"Yes."

"Big, tall, blond Viking vampire, thinks he knows best for everyone, called you. Why?"

"He was worried."

"About what?" I asked, surprised.

"About you, about how the bond was affecting you, about how to approach you."

I blinked at her, stupefied. "Are you serious? He called you for advice?"

"Yes," she said defensively.

"What did you tell him?"

She shrugged. "I told him you hadn't talked to me about it, and if he wanted to know how you were feeling about it, he should ask you himself. That's all."

"That's it?"

"Yes," she said, without hesitation, and I knew she was telling me the truth – fairies can't lie. "I did mention to Niall that he'd called, though. And that he was concerned for you. I think he was pleased. He likes Eric."

"He tolerates him," I corrected.

"No, no. He was pleased that Eric cares for you so much. I think Eric did him a good turn, once, a long time ago, and he's sort of had a soft spot for him ever since."

Knowing Niall's propensity for acting from emotion rather than reason, I could see that happening. I was also rather pleased that Claudine had told Eric to come to me himself if he wanted answers, and I wondered if that was what had triggered these visits – not that I was complaining. He hadn't asked me, exactly, but perhaps he was working up to that, or perhaps he just thought that spending time together would help.

Or perhaps, I wondered suddenly, the bond made him feel the need to be as close to me as I did to him, however much I wanted to deny that, and push the thought away. If I felt so much better when he was close to me, it followed that he did, too – didn't it? Perhaps I should ask him that, I thought.

"You love him," she said softly, a small smile on her face.

I flushed. "What makes you – how – why do you say that?"

"Firstly, cousin, you're sitting there with a starry-eyed look on your face thinking about him." I opened my mouth to deny I was thinking about him, but she carried on, "Secondly, you've been doodling hearts and stars and flowers all over that page – along with his name. Unless there's some _other_ Eric I don't know about."

I stared down, and immediately crumpled up the sheet of paper and tossed it in the fire. No way was I going to risk Eric _ever_ seeing that – I'd never hear the end of it. "Fine," I muttered.

She gave me a long, hard look. "You'd save everyone, including yourself, an awful lot of heartache if you'd just tell him that," she said.

"And send him running? No way," I replied.

She laughed. "Sook, call him. Talk to him. Ask him to explain about the bond. I promise you it'll be fine." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, is that the time? I must dash, I'm meeting Claude later, and I need to get home and change. Be good, now!" She gave me a long, close hug, and I felt that blossoming warmth within me, and hugged her for much longer than I normally did. She gave me a long look, and seemed pleased with what she saw. "I'm checking in again with you tomorrow," she warned me. "Make sure you've spoken to him between now and then."

I sighed. "Fine, I'll talk to him."

She gave me a beaming smile, and popped out of my living room. "I do wish fairies would just use the door like normal folks," I grumbled to myself, fixing myself some dinner.

I cleared up quickly once I'd eaten, and checked my stock of bottled blood – plenty for a couple of days, still, which was good. I wondered if Eric was going to continue with his visits, and for how long – not that I wanted him to stop – I didn't – but I was a bit puzzled over his behaviour, and wanted to know what was going on. I realised I should just ask him, but was unwilling to – well, break the spell, I guess. I didn't want to sound unwelcoming, and I'd enjoyed the last couple of evenings we'd spent together; I was looking forward to seeing him again this evening.

A knock on my door jolted me from my reverie, and I went to answer it, nerves fluttering as I realised how long I must have been sitting day-dreaming – it was full dark, and had been for quite some time. Maybe Claudine did have a point.

And who could blame me, I thought, as I opened the door, and looked up at Eric. "Come in," I said softly. He followed me into the kitchen. "You want a True Blood?"

"Unless you're offering from the source," he said lightly, catching me round the waist, and pulling me into his arms for a hug.

I melted against him again. "Claudine came by earlier."

"Mm… no wonder you smell even more edible than usual," he commented, inhaling deeply.

"She… said you'd called her."

He tensed slightly. "I was worried about you. I didn't want to upset you, and you seemed to be avoiding me."

"I thought you were avoiding me," I said in a small voice.

"Oh," he said. I realised he was trying to process this in his head. "No. Not really. I thought you would want some time to… to…" he made an impatient gesture with his hand, and I realised he was struggling to explain my very human reactions. "To adjust. Accept. I was trying to give you space."

"It… feels better when you're around," I said nervously. He nodded. "Is it the same for you?"

"Yes," he said, and made a soft, contented sound as I snuggled closer to him, holding me more tightly. "Yes, it affects me, too."

"Is that why you've been coming to see me?"

He didn't answer that right away. I raised my eyebrows. "I worry that, no matter what I say, it'll be the wrong answer," he said.

"Just tell me?"

"Very well. I'm here because… yes, because I feel better when I'm close to you, because of the bond. But also… when I put you to bed, yesterday morning… being in your room, the scent of you, I remembered our time here, last year, the time we spent together alone. I remembered how relaxed you were when it was the two of us, how happy, and I wanted to give you that again, share it with you again. I'm here because… this house, it feels like a sanctuary, when sometimes the world seems to be going to hell around me. And because we've closed Fangtasia for renovations, so I'm more able to come and go as I wish," he said.

I tried not to melt at the first part of his answer, and concentrated on the last part. "I wondered how you'd managed to get away three nights in a row," I said. I asked, nonchalantly, "When's it reopening again?"

"We're having a Twelfth Night re-launch party – Pam's idea," he said. "I was wondering if… you might agree to come. As my guest," he added.

"Um, sure," I said. It was nice to be asked, for once, rather than ordered. "I'll make sure I'm not working that night."

He looked pleased. "I hoped you would come. Sophie-Anne will be pleased to see you, also. She's agreed to do the cutting of the ribbon."

I grimaced at the mention of the vampire queen of Louisiana, but manners were still manners. "How is she?"

"Much better," he said, his eyes dancing. "It's nothing short of a miracle how her legs have grown back, now that the king of Nevada and his cronies have been put back in their boxes."

"King of Nevada?" I asked. This was news to me.

"Felipe de Castro," he said. "Nasty piece of work. We had heard some interesting pieces of information about some of his plans regarding Louisiana, and let it be given out that the Louisiana vampires were gravely injured and depleted in numbers. Actually, we lost relatively few, thanks to you, and the injuries were also much less serious than those of other kingdoms."

"And he tried to take over?"

"He did, and he failed. He lost his lieutenant, Victor Madden, in the fight, and numerous others, though he himself is still alive. He'll be tried at the next summit, but until then, Sophie-Anne has him secured in New Orleans."

"So she didn't lose her legs?"

"No. She lost a couple of toes, that's all. It was greatly exaggerated, to draw the enemy out."

"And what of the vampires we lost – Gervaise, Wybert?" I asked.

"Still with us," he said. "I notice you do not ask after Andre."

I tried not to react to that. "I didn't like him, he creeped me out. I liked the others, though."

He regarded me a moment. "He has met his final death. But you knew that, didn't you?" I shifted uncomfortably, but Eric just smiled. "I know you didn't kill him, and I know you know who did. Because I also know who did."

"Oh?" I said, trying not to give anything away.

"Relax, Sookie, his secret is safe," he said gently. "I haven't told Sophie-Anne of the tiger's involvement."

"Why?" I whispered.

He contemplated me for a moment. "For several reasons. Firstly, because it would pain you if he was punished for it. Secondly, you would never forgive me if I had a hand in it. And thirdly…" he brushed his fingers over my cheek, and cupped it in his hand, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb, "I understand his reasons for doing it – and I would have done the same myself, given the opportunity."

"Was it Quinn who told you about the King of Nevada?" I guessed.

"Yes," he said softly. "He did it for you."

I closed my eyes, and rested my head against Eric's shoulder. Maybe he had done it for me, but I'd heard nothing from him since Rhodes, and that told me all I needed to know. "Let me get you that blood," I muttered, and turned away to the microwave.


	5. Boxing Day Part 2

**A/N: I give you fair warning, I'm giving my own twist/spin on blood bonding here. Why? Well, ultimately, because I can. I've drawn on the idea of the number three being important, as the books mention, but I always wondered why Sookie thought it was important that when the bond was formed, it was the third time she'd had Eric's blood, when it would have been the first time she'd had Andre's - but that didn't seem to make a difference to his belief that he could form a bond with her. The only importance Eric seems to attach to it is that she might be more inclined to agree to bonding with him because she'd had his blood before (and they'd been lovers) - it seemed more to do with her own feelings on the subject, rather than anything to do with the bonding itself, for which it seemed the actual exchange of blood at the same time was the important thing. However, three often _is_ an important number, so I wanted to keep that idea in, along with the idea that the bond is strengthened by further blood exchanges - and this is how I've done it!**

* * *

We sat in front of the fire again, and I noticed that Eric had a small bag with him. I gave him a questioning look, and he produced some pieces of wood and a pocketknife. "I promised I'd show you," he said, to my unspoken question.

Neither of us spoke as he worked. I watched with fascination as he deftly whittled away at the wood, until the shape of a snowflake began appearing. I was mesmerised by the sight of him sitting there, working away at such a tiny little ornament. My mind wandered as I watched him, imagining his fingers caressing me in the same way he was touching and working the wood, and I stifled a whimper. He glanced up at me, and I could tell from the heat in his eyes that he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Heart racing, and breathing shallow, I was startled as the silence was broken with a sharp curse. Dropping my eyes back down to his hands, I realised that the momentary loss in concentration had caused his hands to slip; there was a deep gash in his left thumb.

Before I realised what I was doing, I'd knelt beside him, and licked the blood from his hand. I jerked back with a gasp, and shivered. "What's happening to me?" I asked him, frightened.

"You're drawn to me as much as I'm drawn to you," he replied, his voice gentle. He closed the knife carefully, and set it to one side. I was shaking; he picked me up, and sat me on his lap. "Hush, lover, I have you," he murmured. His closeness calmed me, and he held me until I stopped trembling. "Better?"

"A little."

He kissed me, very gently. "You never cease to surprise me," he said with a smile. "I never thought you would take my blood willingly. Usually, I have to fight to get you to take it."

"What would happen if you drank from me again now?" I asked, hearing my voice as if from a distance.

"Having had my blood?" he asked, and I nodded. "It would reinforce the bond; like a second bonding."

I took two deep breaths, swallowed, then whispered, "Do it."

"Sookie?"

"Please."

"Sookie, if we complete three bondings, no magic can break them, nothing can supersede them. You'll be bound to me, and I to you, until one of us dies. One bonding – there is a ritual to break it. Two, it is risky, but still possible. Three, and you're stuck with me."

I processed this information. "You could have broken the bond?"

"If you'd asked me to, I would have done it. But you didn't ask, and I hoped you wouldn't want to."

"I don't want to," I said, and I knew I didn't. "This… this would be the second bonding?"

"Yes," he answered.

I looked up at him, my heart in my mouth. "Do you want it?"

"More than you could possibly imagine," he whispered, and I could feel the intensity of it flooding through me.

I tilted my head to one side, and closed my eyes. "Drink."

He made a tiny, incoherent sound, and took just a taste of my blood. Then his mouth was on mine, hungry and unyielding. "Sookie… lover…"

I realised how much he'd been trying to hold back, the last couple of nights, to give me something I wanted, regardless of his own wants and needs. I buried my hands in his hair, and everything I felt for him came flooding out, kissing him back for all I was worth. "Bed," I managed to gasp out, and he nodded. We lost our clothes somewhere along the way, and tumbled into bed in a needy, frenzied heap. He pulled the covers over us, and went back to kissing me, hands everywhere, as I tried to pull him closer and closer. "Need you. Want you," I told him. "Please."

He didn't reply – his mouth was too busy – though he made a soft sound of agreement, and quickly obliged, pulling my leg up to wrap around his waist as he entered me. Neither of us lasted very long.

I lay beside him, gasping, trembling with aftershocks. "That was… incredible," I said.

He shifted me so that I sprawled across his chest. "And unusual," he said thoughtfully. "I generally prefer to take my time a little more than that."

I giggled, remembering him doing just that… oh, yes, he liked taking his time all right, though there were also some heated, passionate encounters that hadn't lasted long in our past. But this… it was as if the bonding had sent us spiralling completely out of control. Assuming it was the bonding. I put that to him, and he thought about it.

"Possibly you are right, it could be," he said, playing with my hair. "It's rarely done – taking blood from each other at the same time – and even rarer that it's repeated. Yes, it could be that, but…"

"But?"

I could tell he was smiling. "You didn't just accept the bond, or accept a second bonding; you _initiated_ the second bonding."

"So?"

He laughed softly. "You may not have noticed, Sookie, but that made me very, very happy - to know you wanted this between us; wanted the bond, wanted me."

"You really do love me, don't you?" I asked hesitantly. I think, up until that point, I'd still doubted it, even though I wanted to believe it. Oh, how I'd wanted to.

"You'd only just noticed that?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "I thought I'd made it clear."

"Well, it's not like you've ever said it, in so many words," I said, a trifle huffily.

"Neither have you," he pointed out mildly. "The best I ever got was a 'maybe, I'm not sure, when you had no clue who you were'. It doesn't exactly make a guy feel special, my lover."

I flushed at that memory. "Hey, I'd just been forced into a blood bond, dealt with a bomb, and my boyfriend had been shot. I wasn't doing so great," I protested.

"Many a woman would have had hysterics by that point," he mused. "You? No, you take it all in your stride, and don't give an inch." He kissed the top of my head. "I was so proud of you," he told me.

"You would really have died with me," I marvelled softly. I closed my eyes, remembering those tense, terrifying moments as I'd held the bomb, Eric at my elbow, refusing to leave me, even if it meant his own final death; trying to make me hand it over to him by force of will. "Why the _hell_ didn't you get out of there when you could, you stubborn ass?"

He shot me a mildly irritated look (presumably for calling him a stubborn ass), but was clearly giving the matter some thought. I was surprised he'd never questioned it before; had he really just done it without thinking, without calculating? "I…" he stopped. "I don't know if it's more true to say I wouldn't leave you, or I couldn't. I don't know. All I knew was that I wasn't going anywhere without you."

"You're nuts," I informed him baldly, as much as anything to cover my shock.

"Some might say the same about you, my darling, after you risked your life to safe a bunch of vampires who'd endangered it in the first place," he replied, and I could feel, as well as hear, the tremor of laughter in his voice.

"Most of the world," I agreed complacently. Strangely, I found I didn't give a damn what the rest of the world thought about that. It was my life, and they were _my _vampires - ah, friends.

"I sometimes wonder. But then I realise that it's not you that's crazy, it's the rest of the world."

Gob-smacked didn't even begin to cover that one.


	6. 27th December

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! Please keep them coming, they make me smile. Hopefully, this will make you smile, too! :-)**

******A/N 2: Sorry if you got an email saying this was posted earlier - I did post it, but FF seems to be playing up today!**

* * *

"Well? Did you talk to him?"

I stifled a shriek. "Geez, Claudine, give me some warning when you pop in!" I gasped, getting my heart rate back under control.

"Sorry," she grinned cheerfully, looking anything but. "So? Did you?"

"Yes, I did."

"And? And?" she asked eagerly.

I gave her a sidelong look, and smiled. "He came over last night and we… figured a few things out."

"Oh…?"

I flushed. "I, ah… initiated a second bonding," I admitted.

She laughed. "And by the smile on your face, tall, blond and deadly screwed you six ways till Sunday."

"Claudine!"

"Sookie, you're positively glowing with happiness," she told me. "If I wasn't so happy for you, I'd be utterly nauseated. Are you going to go ahead with the third bonding?"

"You know about vampire bonding?" I asked, surprised.

She shrugged. "Not much, only what Eric told me when he called. So? Will you?"

"We haven't talked about it." But I found myself filled with longing, such longing for it.

She hugged me. "Well, you should. Talk to him, I mean."

"I know, I know. I don't want him to feel as though he's being pushed into it."

She rolled her eyes. "And he probably won't talk to you about it for exactly the same reason. Honestly, the two of you are _hopeless_. Is he coming round again any time soon?"

I blushed. "If he does, it'll be the fourth night in a row."

She grinned. "Boy, he has it _baaaad_," she drawled with a twinkle. I giggled. "Well, if he does, I recommend you talk to him about that third bonding," she said.

"W-well…"

"You know you want it."

"Yes, but…"

"You think he doesn't? Sookie, how _exactly_ did he react when you initiated the second bonding?"

"He was pretty happy," I admitted.

"Not just a bit pleased."

"No," I blushed.

"Not even quite a lot pleased."

"W-well…"

"More like 'I'm so happy I have to fuck you senseless right now' pleased."

"Yes, yes, okay, I get the message!"

She grinned. "Good. So talk to him."

I sighed. "Let me guess. If I don't, you're coming by tomorrow to tick me off."

"No, no, I'm busy tomorrow," she said airily. I relaxed slightly, and she gave me an impish smile. "It'll be Claude dropping in to check on you." And with a smile, and a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, she was gone.

I wasn't sure what my fae family were up to, but they seemed to be pretty single-minded about me getting it on with the big blond Viking. I guess I should be glad they were so supportive, but I just wondered what the hell was going on. Why was my love life so important all of a sudden?

I didn't have an answer to that, and Claudine was only too good at being evasive, and I could rarely make head or tail of Niall. I wondered if I could get more information out of Claude, and resolved to try. It couldn't hurt, after all.

I practically bounded to the front door when I heard it, and let Eric in; he swept me off my feet immediately, and kissed me hungrily. "I've been away from you for too long."

"A few hours," I protested, laughing.

"A few hours too long. You've had yet more fae company?"

"Yes, Claudine again."

He looked puzzled. "Is it common for your family to spend so much time with you?"

"No. And I have no idea what they're up to, but I'm pretty sure there's something going on. I just don't know _what_," I said, with a hint of frustration.

He shrugged. "No doubt it will become clear in time. So long as they do you no harm, it matters little. Perhaps they thought you would appreciate the company, as you are at outs with your brother, and on your own for the holiday period."

"Hmm, well, perhaps," I said, unconvinced. "Just to warn you, apparently Claude's coming by tomorrow, so I'll be fairy-scented again."

His lips curled into a smile. "They're making it very hard for me to resist dragging you off to bed and licking you all over."

Whoa; where did my knees just go? "Don't resist on my account," I stuttered.

"No?" he drawled. "You'd like that, would you, lover?"

Wherever my knees went, my panties had just joined them. "Oh, yes," I breathed.

"And there was I thinking you just liked talking to me," he teased, carrying me towards the bedroom.

I gulped. "I like that too, but let's face it, being bonded to you does have… other benefits."

"Like the mind-blowing sex?" he purred in my ear, setting me down on the bed.

Oh, and there go the rest of my clothes. "Yes," I agreed, pulling him down towards me, and reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. "Like that."

He chuckled. "I barely make it through the door, and you're trying to strip me. Anyone would think you liked me."

I tried to reel myself back in a little. "Is this a result of the second bonding? The 'I-can't-get-enough-of-you' crazy sex?"

He grinned. "I thought it was just the two of us, but possibly, you may be right. If so, it's a side effect I'm very happy with."

I remembered what Claudine had said only too well, and tried to sound casual as I said, "If it's like this with a second bonding, what do you think it would be like with the third?"

He took in a sharp, unneeded breath; his eyes were dark, his fangs out. "Lover…"

I trembled, but not with fear. "You want it?" I asked softly. "The third bonding?"

I watched his face intently as he brought himself back under control with some difficulty, but I already knew he did. "Only if it's what you want."

"Eric, I asked what _you_ want," I reminded him.

"I don't want you to feel you have to."

I sighed. "Just give me a straight answer. Do you want it, or not?"

He looked at me steadily. "Yes, I do. Yes, more than anything. But only if you're willing and sure you want it."

"And if I do?"

He grinned. "I'll be doing a lot more than just licking you all over," he promised, flipping my t-shirt over my head, and flicking open my bra. "Perhaps I should demonstrate...?"

Oh my Lord. I'm sure I used to have some bones. And did the temperature just rise about twenty degrees?

"Is there… does there… any special ritual?" I stuttered, as his tongue started exploring my collarbone.

"Mm… no," he said. One glance at the front of his jeans showed just how aroused he was, and I shivered in anticipation. "Just the third blood exchange, so long as you've had no other vampire's blood in between."

I took a deep breath. "I want to do it." His head snapped up. "Not tonight," I said. "I know… it's not a ritual, but… it's a big deal, yes?"

"Yes," he answered, fangs well and truly out again.

"So I… when we do it… it should be special."

"It could only be special with you," he murmured, lips returning to their quest along my collarbone and down between my breasts.

Well, that was sweet, but not the point. "Am I going to get any sense out of you at all over this, or are you just going to go hormonal teenager on me every time I mention it?" I asked, part amused, and part exasperated.

To my relief, he gave me a crooked grin, sat back, and reeled his fangs back in. "Sorry. Hearing you talk about it has about the same effect as… dousing yourself liberally in fairy blood and treating me to a lap dance," he explained.

"I noticed," I said dryly.

"You were saying," he shifted uncomfortably, and I realised just how much he was straining at his jeans, "it should be special."

"Yes."

He groaned. "Lover, can we please discuss this _after_ I fuck you senseless?"

I snorted with laughter, and he gave me a rueful smile. "Let's table that discussion for later," I giggled.

"Thank the Gods," he muttered, and pounced.


	7. 28th December

**A/N: Sorry for yesterday's posting megrims, there seems to have been issues with updates on FF - hopefully it'll all be fine today. Anyway, here's the next chapter - I enjoyed writing this one, Claude's a lot of fun to write!**

* * *

At least Claude knocked at the door, like regular folk did, I thought sourly as I answered the door to him the next day. Actually, I realised, Niall had done as well, even though I knew he was capable of 'popping' – maybe it was a fairy godmother prerogative to just pop into my house without so much as a by-your-leave?

"Hello, cousin," he said. He didn't look - or sound - happy to be there. At least Claude never pretended – he was just a surly bastard.

"Claude, lovely to see you, too," I said dryly. "Would you like some sweet tea? Some cake?"

His head whipped up, and he smiled – when he bothered, it was dazzling. "Cake?"

I smothered a laugh; fairy he might be, but he still had the same reaction to food that pretty much every male of my acquaintance had. "Chocolate cake?" I coaxed. I wanted information, after all. I wasn't above bribing my cousin with cake to get it.

He gave a happy little hum as I gave him a large slice. "This is good cake."

"Glad you like it. So, what brings you here?" I asked, making a mental note that Claude liked Gran's chocolate cake recipe, for future reference. You never know when information like that can come in handy. Funnily enough, it was always Jason's favourite, too.

"Claudine sent me round," he mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

"What for?" I persisted, trying to sound curious rather than demanding.

He swallowed his mouthful. "Something about a third bonding? Or was it bondage?" he asked with a sly smile.

"Bond_ing_," I squeaked, blushing.

"Hmm… I wouldn't mind a little bondage with your Viking," he carried on, as if he hadn't heard me. "I'd have to have _him_ tied up, of course. Otherwise he'd rip my throat out. Though what a way to go…" he shivered pleasantly.

I glared at him. "Claude Crane, you stop that right now! Go and find your own damn Viking, and keep your hands off mine."

He gave me an easy grin. "Oh, so you admit he is 'your Viking', then? Claudine will be happy," he said smugly.

I've mentioned Claude's a bastard, right? "Why's Claudine so interested in me hooking up with Eric, anyway?" I asked.

He shrugged. "No idea. She just said this was part of her duty as your fairy godmother, and as she couldn't come by today, she told me to check up on you."

"Told you to?"

He looked defensive. "Look, Claudine's sweet, but if she gets her mind set on something, she doesn't give up. I've long since learnt it's easier just to do whatever she wants."

I sighed; back to square one, as it seemed Claude didn't know what was going on any more than I did. "You don't know anything about the Apples of Iduna, do you?"

"Not really. I know the story, but no more than that." Well, there went that idea, then. "So, what's all this about a third bonding? Claudine's going to want the full story, and there'll be hell to pay if I've got nothing to tell her."

_Like I care,_ I thought snippily. "She wanted me to talk to Eric about it, and I did."

"And?"

"Apparently it was the vampire equivalent of dousing myself liberally in fairy blood and giving him a lap dance," I told him, almost verbatim.

"Little Viking was as happy as Big Viking, then?"

"Claude!"

He snickered. "You've gone an interesting shade of red, cousin. Honestly, I don't know why you're being so coy about it. You're _fairy_. We fuck. A lot." He grinned. "And judging by that happy glow you've got going on, you were doing plenty of it last night."

I gave a pleasant little shiver as I remembered that. "Yes, well, that's beside the point," I said tartly.

He shook his head. "Really isn't. Stop fighting your fae nature, cousin. It's a part of you. You'll be a lot happier." He leered. "Your _Viking_ would be pretty happy, too. Seems he likes fucking you as much as you like fucking him."

"Okay, enough!" I growled.

He gave me an unapologetic grin, and got up from the table. To my surprise, he hugged me. "Thanks for the cake, cousin. And enjoy your Viking." Then, with a peck on the cheek, he sauntered out.

What was it with my fairy family hugging and kissing me all of a sudden? I wasn't on hugging terms with Claude, even if I was with Niall and Claudine. This was getting really quite weird.

I stood at the kitchen sink, slowly clearing up from the impromptu tea party, trying to make sense of it all. First unusual thing to happen: Eric playing Santa, kissing me under the mistletoe, and cuddling me by the fire on Christmas Eve – without trying to seduce me – then putting me to bed and remembering his stay with me. Second weird thing: Niall turning up for Christmas dinner with his unusual gift. Third strange thing: the glowing and swirly-iris thing when Eric and I ate the apple. Fourth weird thing: Eric coming by every night to see me – perhaps not so weird, given that he now remembered everything (and we'd more or less picked up where we'd left off - that's to say, in bed). Fifth weird thing: Claudine (and now Claude) popping by every day to check up on me.

Given that I didn't know which, if any, of these things were related, I couldn't make any sense out of them at all. With Claude and Claudine keeping an eye on me, did that mean I was in some kind of danger? Nothing about their demeanour seemed to suggest it; it all seemed to be based around the 'just fuck the Viking, already' vibe.

Well, I didn't have a problem with the way things stood with Eric (far from it), but I still couldn't help but wonder about what had brought on this sudden interest from the fairies. And why now? What were they up to? I gave a growl of frustration, and stomped off to the shower.

I had some good memories of that shower, but with Eric not there, it was frustrating thinking about them. Maybe Claude was right about the fae nature. I sighed, slamming the water off again, and towelling myself dry. I gave a tiny shriek as I went into my room, and then a gasp of relief. "Eric! How did you get in?"

He grinned. "The door was open. You can't have closed it properly after your cousin left." He crooked a finger to beckon me. "You look… frustrated, lover," he drawled, eyes half-closed. "Let me help you with that."

I took a couple of wobbly steps towards him, fire spreading through me the closer I got to him.

"Hm, what's got you so worked up?" he asked as I reached the bed. He gave a gentle tug on the towel, and purred his approval as it hit the floor, leaving me naked. My eyes widened as he sprawled back on the bed, positioning me astride his face. "I did promise to lick you all over," he murmured against me, and I jolted at the sensation it created. He laughed softly, and a mew of pleasure escaped me. I grabbed hold of the bed frame to steady myself, gasping and writhing against his tongue.

"Eric…"

"Louder," he chuckled.

"Oh…. Oh…. Oh…OH!" I would have slumped helplessly if he hadn't been holding me up by my thighs. Before I could even attempt moving, he'd changed position, and I was sitting astride his lap, quivering. I wrapped myself around him, and laid my head on his shoulder.

"Better?"

"Mmmm," I hummed, snuggling against him. I didn't think I could formulate anything more coherent than that.

He chuckled. "I'm very glad to hear it," he said – and made good on his promise from the previous night to lick me all over. From my point of view? Definitely worth waiting for.


	8. 29th Dec to early morning 1st Jan

**A/N: Just a short one today, to get us back on track in the right timeframe. Poor confused Sookie... ;-)**

* * *

I gave a sigh of resignation as Claudine popped into my bedroom the next day, an expectant look on her face, as I was getting ready to go to work. "Well?" she asked.

"Claude didn't tell you?" I grumbled. This popping in and out, and quizzing me about my love life, was getting to be an irritating habit. "_Yes_, I talked to him, okay? Yes, he wants to do the third bonding. Yes, I intend to go ahead with it. And _yes_, before you ask, he _did_ screw me six - or possibly considerably more, I lost count - ways till Sunday when I talked to him about it."

"Oh, that's so sweet," she cooed. I shot her a dirty look; clearly my idea of 'sweet' didn't coincide with hers. 'Sweet' was kittens and candy, not blood-bonding and torrid sex. Though, admittedly, I wasn't about to exchange what I had for all the kittens and candy in the world, however much I liked them.

"What's it all about? Why so interested?" I asked.

She looked hurt. "I'm your fairy godmother, Sookie. I have your best interests at heart. I want you to be happy."

Thanks for the guilt trip, cousin. "That's… that's really good to know," I said evenly. I was pretty sure she was only telling me part of the story, but I was running late, and couldn't stop to try to wheedle more information out of her, more's the pity. "Look, I have to get ready for work, so…"

"Oh! Oh, okay." She beamed. "I'll drop in for a chat tomorrow then." Hug, kiss on the cheek, off she popped.

It wasn't that I was unhappy to see Claudine – far from it, her smile could make anyone happy, quite literally – but I just _knew_ there was more to this than just the occasional social call. I mean, you don't pay a social call on your cousin every day, do you? No, there was definitely something going on. I went to work, got back, showered. Eric came round, and made me forget everything but his name. Repeat for the next two days.

Yes, you read that right; one of my fairy cousins popped in to see me _every single day_ for over a week. Eric visited me _every single night _for over a week (which I was considerably happier about, as… well. We couldn't keep our hands off each other, after the second bonding. And at every mention of planning for the third, he really upped his game - I was lucky I was still able to walk. Thinking about it, maybe having had a mouthful of his blood the other night was no bad thing, on that score). And I was still no closer to finding out what was going on. Claudine was as evasive as ever, Claude knew nothing, and Niall wasn't answering his phone.

Oh, yes. Something was most definitely up - and not just my second favourite part of Eric's anatomy.

Even Sam was giving me funny looks, until I snapped when I caught him surreptitiously sniffing me as I helped clear up, early on New Year's Day when we'd closed the bar and thrown out the drunks. "Sam Merlotte, you stop that!"

He looked sheepish (I wondered briefly if he'd ever turned into a sheep, and fought down a hysterical giggle, a sure sign of my tiredness and stress). "Sorry, sorry!" Then, cautiously, "So, you're with Eric, then?"

I glared at him. "None of your business."

"You smell of him."

"You wouldn't have known if you hadn't been sniffing me!" I yelped.

He looked at me anxiously; I rarely snapped at my boss – or anyone else – like that. "Everything okay, cher?"

I groaned, my anger deflating like a burst tyre. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's Claude and Claudine. They're coming round every single day to check up on me. At least, they say they're social calls, but…"

"Well, it is the holiday season," he said reasonably.

"Every _day_, Sam?" I said with frustration. "Claude doesn't even like me. I just don't get it."

"You think there's trouble? They're there to protect you?

"I don't know. Maybe." Given that Niall wasn't answering his phone, it was entirely possible that there was some crisis in the Realm of Faery, and Niall was sorting things out; and if that was the case, and he thought I might be in trouble, he might well have asked Claudine to keep an eye on me; it was, after all, her job as my fairy godmother. And with a fairy checking up on me in the day, and a tall, muscular, gorgeous Viking vampire there all night, I was actually well-protected. I guessed that Sam might have a point.

On the other hand, all they seemed to want to know about was my relationship with Eric (which, in my view, was none of their business), not 'have you seen a murderous fairy/vampire/shifter/were/witch/some combination of the above hanging around?', and surely that would have made more sense than asking whether or not Eric and I were bonding, if there was some kind of threat to me. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to get it to add up. I had to be missing something; I just had to be. I frowned, and gave a sigh of frustration and exasperation.

Sam gave me a sympathetic look. "Why don't you go home, cher? I can take it from here. You've done more than your fair share this evening – go home and get some rest."

I nodded; I was grateful of the excuse to be out of there. I wanted my bed.

Okay, so I wanted my bed with a Viking vampire in it, but the bed would have been enough on its own; it had the blanket he'd given me on it, and it smelled faintly of him – we'd spent quite a lot of time wrapped up in it, the last few days. I already had some exceptionally good memories, and I'd only had it a week.

I grinned a little as I drew up to my house, seeing the familiar Corvette outside, and Eric lounging against it in a far too inviting way. Damn him, he could look inviting doing just about anything – or perhaps that was just my hormones talking. Either way, I forgot my tiredness and frustration the minute I saw him.

"You have _no idea_ how pleased I am to see you," I sighed, wrapping my arms around him. I felt immediately better, and let my hands drift over the muscles in his back (and, okay, I admit it, over his spectacular ass, too), pressing a kiss to his chest through his t-shirt.

He chuckled. "You could always show me," he said suggestively. "I'd like that."

"Me too," I breathed, tugging him by the hand. He followed me into the house, and to my room.

I didn't get much rest, but I was very, very happy.


	9. 1st January

**A/N: Story time for our favourite couple. Like Eric, I prefer this version of the story, not the one that (supposedly) started the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. **

* * *

"Tell me another story?" I asked Eric as we lay in bed near midnight on New Year's Day (or rather, Night) – in my case, thoroughly exhausted from our love-making.

He drew gentle fingers down my spine, making me arch against him. "From Norse mythology?"

"Mm… yes," I sighed happily, as his fingers tickled their way back up my spine. "You're so good at it."

He chuckled. "And telling stories, too," he teased. "Flattery will get you everywhere, my darling. Let me think…" Fingers dancing over the skin of my back, he said thoughtfully, "perhaps the story of Baldur's death, as we mentioned mistletoe the other night. Would this suffice?"

"Yes, that sounds good," I answered, playing with the soft gold curls of his chest hair. I'd been curious about the tale since he mentioned it on Christmas Eve.

"Very well; but I will tell you the tale as I first heard it, not the version which led to the tradition. As with all myths and legends, there are different versions, some with different endings. This is the one I heard in my father's halls." He turned onto his side, and pulled me closer, one thigh sneaking between my legs so that we tangled together pleasantly. "In the days when there was no open war between the Æsir and the Giants, and the men of Midgard were noble warriors, there was no happier place to be than Breidablik on the plain of Ida in Asgard, where dwelt Baldur the Beautiful, the fairest and gentlest of the Gods. Often would Baldur's twin, Hodur, be found there; though he was Baldur's opposite, dark-haired, silent, and blind from birth, he adored his golden-haired brother, and was loathe to be parted from him. There, in his silver-vaulted palace, where no unclean thing could come, dwelt Baldur with his wife, the sweet, blossom-like Nanna. Their love was the most perfect in all the Nine Worlds."

I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his chest, earning a soft sound of pleasure in response.

"Erelong, a trouble grew in Baldur's heart, and seeing it, his parents, Odin and Frigga, summoned him, and asked what worried him. He told them of his dark dreams, which seemed to be full of death and foreboding, warning him of danger looming close to him. Now, Odin, having drunk of Mimir's Well, had long known that his favoured son Baldur was doomed to die, though he had not been able to discern the killer or method that would be used, so he, in turn, was troubled, knowing that Baldur's death would herald the coming of Ragnarok, the last days of the Gods, when they must fight their final battle against the Giants, and face their doom. But he did not believe that Baldur's death would come for many a long age."

I pondered how terrible it must be to know that your child must die – to know you couldn't prevent it. How that must have hurt…

"As the Æsir debated the meaning of Baldur's dreams, Odin took his horse, the eight-legged steed Sleipnir, and rode out to Nifelheim, the land of the mists, in search of answers. He came to the kingdom of Hela – half-maiden, half-skeleton, the monstrous daughter of Loki and the giantess Angurboda – where go those who die that do not fall in battle. Turning aside from Hela's Halls, he went in disguise to the burial place of the prophetess Volva the Wise, and chanted many powerful spells until she rose from her resting-place, her face green and ghastly."

I shivered, and snuggled closer to Eric, then felt slightly abashed – I was snuggling up to a vampire for comfort over what was, in modern terms, a zombie? Hmm, like that made a lot of sense.

"Then Odin, giving his name as Vegtam the Wise Wanderer, questioned Volva; and though she was unwilling, she answered his questions. From her, Odin learned that Hela was waiting to welcome Baldur to her kingdom, and that Hodur, Baldur's devoted twin, would be the one to strike him down; he learnt also that an avenger would be born whose name would be Vali, and that he would be born of Odin. At last, she spoke no more, having recognised Odin for who he was, and sank into her resting-place again. Then, heavy-hearted, Odin returned to Asgard with his news, wondering how Baldur's fate might be delayed, if not prevented."

Poor Odin; how hard, to be faced with the burden of that knowledge, I thought.

"When he returned, Frigga, his wife, greeted him joyously with the news that all things that grew out of the earth, and all things in the earth – rocks, metal, even soil, and all that dwelt upon the earth, from the Gods to the Giants, from the Dwarves to the Trolls, even those who dwelt in sea and air, had bound themselves by great oaths to do no harm to Baldur, he whom all loved. Odin was comforted; he knew that Baldur's fate was sealed, but it seemed as though it could at least be delayed by this action of Frigga."

A mother who would do anything for her child, I thought, a little wistfully. I wondered if my own mother could ever have loved me enough to act that way in my defence; if she could ever have loved me at all.

"Knowing that no weapon could harm Baldur, a new game sprang up – the Gods would take it in turn to attempt to use their weapons against Baldur, who would stand in their midst laughing as swords bent and broke, and axes shattered. Even Thor's great hammer, Miolnir, bounced off him harmlessly, returning to Thor's hand. Loki, amongst them, also discovered that even poisoned knives did Baldur no harm, and the evil in his heart threatened to choke him, so jealous was he of the love that all things had for Baldur – all, save him alone."

I shivered, and Eric pulled the blanket further up, so that it tucked neatly under my chin.

"Disguising himself as an old woman, Loki visited Queen Frigga in her hall of Fensalir, and Frigga told proudly how all living things had sworn to do no harm to Baldur. Yet it came out in their conversation that Frigga had neglected to ask the mistletoe, which does not grow in the earth, but in the arms of a tree, for its oath. Hearing this, Loki sped to an oak tree west of Valhalla, and plucked a spray of mistletoe, trimming it and shaping it into a dart, and muttering over it an evil Rune. He breathed on it, and it became as hard as iron. He hurried back to the sporting Gods, who had invited some Trolls and Dwarves to share in their games; and all were laughing and joining in, save for blind Hodur, who could not see to target his brother."

I cringed, seeing where this was heading.

"Then Loki, in the guise of kindness to Hodur, allowing him to join in the sport, placed the dart in his hand, and guided his throw. The blow struck true, and Baldur fell with a cry. Deep silence fell, then great weeping from all save Hodur, whose anguish was so great that no tears would come. Soon it was known who had struck the blow, but none raised their hand to Hodur; though they knew he must die for his actions, they knew he had not intended them, and pity stayed their hands; also, they were bound by great oaths not to harm one another, and moreover, on the Plain of Ida, before Baldur's palace, it was decreed that no blood might be shed."

Poor Hodur; I tried to imagine how it would feel if I'd accidentally managed to kill Jason, and shuddered. I'd never forgive myself; surely death would come as a blessed relief from that torment?

Then Hermodur, the messenger of the Gods, agreed to Frigga's request to journey through Nifelheim to ascertain if there was any ransom Hela would accept for the return of Baldur. Then, as he rode off, they laid Baldur on his longship, Ringhorn, surrounded by weapons and treasures; and as Nanna, weeping, bent to kiss him farewell one last time, her heart broke, and she, too, died. They laid her sorrowfully beside him, that they might never again be parted, and lit the funeral pyre. Many joined with the Æsir to mourn Baldur's passing; Frey and Freya cam from Vanaheim, and Odin and Frigga were joined by the Valkyries; Giants and Dwarves came, and Elves from Alfheim, even the Trolls. As the ship left the shore, Odin placed the ring Draupnir on Baldur's finger, and whispered in his dead son's ear the Word of Hope, the Word which all the Nine Worlds longed to know."

I wondered what it was, too. "What was it?" I whispered.

"That's part of another story," he murmured in reply, lips just touching my ear.

"Please tell me?" I pleaded.

He smiled against my ear. "Rebirth. After Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, there comes renewal and rebirth."

I nodded, satisfied, and he continued.

"Nine nights and nine days Hermodur travelled to the realm of Hela, and into Helheim he rode Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse. There he rested for the night, before being brought to Hela to ask what her ransom would be. She decreed, in her cold voice, that if all things, both quick and dead, mourned and wept for Baldur, in all the Nine Worlds, then Baldur might return; else he would stay in Helheim. Hermodur set out joyfully, sure of his errand, and carrying back the ring Draupnir as a gift from Baldur to Odin. For surely none would fail to shed a tear for Baldur, beloved and beautiful."

I wasn't so sure, though I hoped that would be the case. Of course, it wasn't.

"Throughout Midgard and Asgard, Jotunheim and Alfheim, Nifelheim and Vanaheim, there was weeping and mourning for Baldur's death, yet still he remained in Helheim. Tirelessly, Hermodur travelled, bearing news of Baldur's death, far and wide, until in the depths of Jotunheim, the land of the Giants, he came upon a solitary Giantess who did not weep. On being asked her name, she gave it as Thokk; and she refused to weep for Baldur. He tried in vain to coax tears from her, but she would not weep. Sadly, he returned to Odin, and told him what had befallen; and Odin knew, in his heart, that Baldur must remain in Hela's halls until Ragnarok, and that Thokk the Giantess was none other than Loki in disguise; he who was once his blood-brother had become his bitterest foe."

I decided I really didn't like Loki one little bit. "Was he punished?"

"Eventually, yes," said Eric. "But that comes a lot later."

"And what about the mistletoe? It was after Baldur's death, and coming back to life, that Frigga decreed it should bring love, not death, you said?"

"Yes; in a different version, he is allowed back to Asgard by Hela, because everyone had loved him and grieved for him, though I think this version is more likely – for why would Loki grieve, having brought about Baldur's death? Perhaps it is more likely that Frigga hoped that some good would come out of such great sorrow; that her son would live on in the memory of the world by way of the plant that had struck him down. She was a wise woman, the Goddess Frigga."

"And a mother who loved her son," I whispered.

"That too," he replied softly, "and there is little a person will not do for one they love."

I wrapped my arms tightly around him, and tilted my face up to kiss him. _How right you are_, I thought as I melded my body to his in the soft lamplight of my room. _How right you are._


	10. 2nd January

**A/N: By my reckoning, Sookie picked amnesiac Eric up early on the morning of 1st January; Pam and Chow visited her on evening of 1st January; she finally succumbed to Eric's charms, therefore, on 2nd January. Hopefully I've calculated that right...**

* * *

I was a bundle of nerves as I waited at home on the night of the second of January. I'd made my decision, and I had everything planned out. I'd been to the spa (Claudine's suggestion and treat – she'd actually come with me for a girls' day out), and had bought some very beautiful (and rather expensive) underwear. The front door was open just a crack to allow Eric entrance, and I was lying by the fire under the blanket, in just my underwear and a smile, as I heard the door click closed.

Eric took in the scene – soft firelight, half-naked woman, fluffy blanket – and stopped dead in his tracks. He blinked a couple of times, a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "You've really gone to town, lover," he said softly. "Though you know, it's really not necessary to seduce me. Not that I'm complaining."

I smiled, and shrugged; the movement dislodged the blanket enough that it fell away from me, exposing more of me to him. He hissed in an unneeded breath, and prowled closer, his fangs popping down. I shivered; these days, I found it unaccountably sexy. "I wanted tonight to be special," I said. "Come and join me."

He stripped off his clothes as he came closer, and my mouth went dry as I saw him, naked in the firelight. He eased under the blanket, and gave me an enquiring look. "Why tonight?"

I looked at him, propped up on one elbow, as I was, and smiled. "A year ago tonight, I walked in on you changing. And you walked in on my shower."

He chuckled. "I lost track of the dates," he admitted. "So… this is an anniversary, is it?"

"Of sorts, yes."

He smiled, and said, as if it had just occurred to him, "It's a nine-day since Christmas Eve, when I first came to you, too."

"A nine-day? Is that important?"

"In Norse mythology it is, yes; anything of great importance - the journey that Odin takes to Helheim, the number of days and nights he hangs on the World Tree, Yggdrasil, to gain wisdom - they all take nine days. So for me, too, it is significant."

I was pleased; it seemed an even better time to be doing this, knowing it was a special day for him, too. I kissed him, then said softly, "Drink from me."

He gave a purr of pleasure. "Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Where from?"

"You choose."

He tugged the blanket away gently, folding it back underneath me. He grinned, and bent his head to kiss from the inside of my knee up my thigh. Then he stopped. "Take these off. Otherwise I'm liable to rip them off you."

I giggled, and obliged, removing my bra as well.

"Better," he rasped. Then his fangs were in my thigh, his fingers dancing between my legs, and I was gasping for breath.

I gave a pleasant shiver as he wrapped the blanket round us, feeling it soft against my bare skin.

"Did you have anything else in mind for this evening?" he purred, fingers now teasing a nipple.

I swallowed, a little nervous. "I was wondering if you might let me return the favour."

He closed his eyes and whimpered. Eric Northman actually _whimpered._ "Where…?"

"Like the first time. Other side." He nodded, and reached over for his jeans, pulling out a pocket knife. I could see his hands were shaking. "Only if you want to," I said.

He gave me a look. "Are you fucking crazy?" He made a cut, just under his nipple, and brought my head down. "Please."

The minute I tasted his blood, I could feel something rush through me, powerful and strong. I gasped and swayed against him, but kept sucking at that slow trickle. All my senses seemed heightened; I was dimly aware of the clock striking midnight over the sound of blood rushing round my body. Then, as suddenly as it had started, they settled back to normal. I trembled as I felt him at my entrance, and gave a pleading hum of encouragement; I stopped sucking only when he was finally sheathed inside me, and I moaned his name, over and over.

His eyes were fierce and joyful and dark, his fangs fully out. _"Mine!"_

It had never turned me on before; it did now. I moved with him, biting at his neck and shoulder without breaking the skin. "Yes." His eyes grew even wilder, and he rolled over on top of me; I was digging my nails into his shoulders, but he didn't seem to mind.

It was raw, it was primal, and I loved it.

As I neared completion, I reared back my head, and struck, biting down hard on his neck; it was enough to push us both over the edge. I gave a soft sigh of contentment as we slithered into a boneless heap on the floor. "Mine," I sighed happily, snuggling up to him.

He growled. "Say that again, and I'll have you on every surface in this house. And a few more outside it."

I grinned up at him. "Promise?"

He licked down the front of my throat, down between my breasts, stopping to swirl his tongue in my navel, and then on down, lapping like a contented cat between my legs. "Promise," he said, and I could tell he was smiling. His head popped up. "Though possibly not all in one night. I doubt there's time before dawn."

I laughed. "Snuggling?"

"For a little while. The blanket does much to promote it."

"Mm… nice and soft."

"It feels lovely against your skin, doesn't it, lover?" he purred. There was a naughty twinkle in his eyes, and I could tell I was going to enjoy whatever he had in mind. He eased it from under me, but instead of covering me over with it, as I'd expected, he rubbed it against one breast. My hips arched at the sensation, and a guttural sound escaped me. "Oh, yes… I think I'll rub it all over you."

And he did, as if it was a very soft towel and he was drying me. I didn't bother trying to keep a hold of rational thought; that had long since flown out of the window. All I could care about were the sensations that were pouring through my body, which was writhing and bucking wherever Eric's blanket covered hands touched, caressed, and teased me. "Please…" I whimpered.

"Please what?"

"Just fuck me," I pleaded.

"How do you want me?"

"So long as you're inside me, I _don't fucking care_," I yelped.

He gave a delighted chuckle. "Such a filthy mouth on you, my darling." He pulled me up, and bent me forwards across the seat of the couch, kneeling behind me. "I love that I can make you say things like that," he said, as he thrust into me.

My fingers dug into the seat cushions as he pounded into me, his hands on my hips holding me steady. I screamed his name as I came, and before I could register what had happened, he'd pulled out of me, turned me round to face him, and thrust back into me again. It was slower, less urgent, but I soon felt myself unable to do anything but whimper in pleasure.

We lay together on the floor for a long while, arms wrapped around each other under the blanket, staring at the fire. Eric broke the silence first. "You know, now we're thrice-bonded, I think I should really make an honest woman of you," he said. I didn't need to look up at him to tell he was smiling; I could hear it in his lazy, happy voice.

"Hmm?" I queried.

"Marry me," he said simply.

"What?"

"I said, marry me."

"But humans and vampires can't legally marry," I said, baffled.

"Not under human law, no," he said. "We can under vampire law." He gave me an uncertain look. "You don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't _want_ to," I said. "I just didn't think it was possible." I looked up at him. "So, what would happen? Would it be like Russell and Bartlett's wedding?"

"Depends how fancy you want to make it. Like a human wedding, the basics are actually very simple; it's all the peripheral stuff that gets out of hand." I stifled a snort of laughter; typical man. He grinned in a self-deprecating way, and shrugged. "Basically, you bring me a special ritual knife, hand it to me in front of a witness, I kiss it, and we're done. Pledged."

"Would I change my name?"

"It isn't common, but I'd like it if you did," he said honestly.

I thought about that. "Sookie Northman does have a nice ring to it," I said thoughtfully.

"Speaking of rings," he said, "it is common in human marriages to wear a ring, isn't it?"

"Mm," I said, touched that he'd thought of it. "But as cousin Claude pointed out, I'm not exactly human."

"Human enough that I think it is important to you," he said shrewdly. "And I think it would please me to see my ring on your finger."

"Like a dog marking its territory," I said with an eye-roll.

"And if I was human, would you think that?" he challenged.

I thought about that. "Don't know, never thought about it before. Probably not, if you wore one as well."

His eyes twinkled. "Would you like to see your wedding ring on my hand, Sookie?"

I smiled. "I think it's both or neither."

"You will do this, then?"

I grinned up at him. "Yes, I guess I might."


	11. 3rd January

**A/N: You'll find out more about Billing's girl in tomorrow's chapter :-) Just a sweet snuggly one for today, where they get to talk about things.**

* * *

I decided to pass some time the next day – once Claudine had come over, and squealed with delight that we'd completed the third bonding, and were going to get married under vampire law (we'd decided to go ahead and do it at the Fangtasia Twelfth Night Re-Launch Party) – perusing some of the books that Eric had given me.

I picked up one, not quite at random; I could see it had a bookmark in it, one of those thin brass ones. Flipping the book – _The Poetic Edda_ – open, I glanced at the bookmark, and smiled; it was a depiction of a Viking Longship at sea, its dragon-head prow jutting forwards proudly. The page had been marked in pencil – quite lightly, but three of the stanzas on the page were underlined. Curious as to what Eric wanted to draw my attention to, I read them.

_The mind alone knows what lies near the heart,  
__he alone knows his spirit:  
__no sickness is worse for the wise man  
__than to have no one to love him._

_That I found when I sat among the reeds  
__And waited for my desire;  
__Body and soul the wise girl was to me,  
__Nevertheless I didn't win her._

_Billing's girl I found on the bed,  
__Sleeping, sun-radiant;  
__The pleasures of a noble were nothing to me,  
__Except to live with that body._

I blushed; it wasn't hard to see where his mind had gone, but it was the fact that he'd associated something so old, and timeless, and beautiful with me – something that he must have known all his life, that was a part of his own story.

I fell into a sort of reverie, thinking about those words, and how fitting they must have seemed to him, especially when he'd found out what the curse was – to be close to his heart's desire and not know it. And though, without his memories, he'd won his way into my heart, it was a long time after that that he'd won me over completely. I realised with a pang that it probably wasn't until _after_ he'd given me the book; that when he'd given it to me, it was a way of telling me how he felt, the only way he knew how.

I gave a little chuckle at 'Billing's girl' – yes, that was a little too close for comfort, I would imagine. I wondered which bed he was thinking of – mine, when he woke me up 'snuggling' after Bill had disappeared, or the one in Russell's mansion. Maybe even my own when he'd lost his memories. It fitted with the 'pleasures of a noble' bit – he'd said he'd give everything up to be with me, after all. Not that I'd believed him, back then, of course.

I liked being described as sun-radiant – though to a vampire that would be pretty dangerous. I guessed a bit of danger would hardly be likely to put Eric off, though – he seemed to thrive on it. I read on, and frowned at some of the tricks they put in each other's way – then laughed, realising that it wasn't so very far from the way Eric and I had danced around each other for months before eventually falling into bed together – or rather, how I'd led him a merry dance, trying to avoid all his wiles to get me there. God knows, he would have jumped at the chance, right from the word go.

I closed the book, gently setting it to one side, and allowed myself a little time to day-dream. Snow was falling outside, and beginning to settle; if it kept on like this, there'd be a complete white-out by evening. I was glad that Eric had decided to stay in the hidey-hole, despite it being, really, a little too small for him; he'd be up at first dark, and we'd have plenty of time together. I remembered him saying that he loved the snow – perhaps it reminded him of home.

I wrapped myself in the blanket, as it was getting colder, and nestled myself down on the couch for a lazy afternoon watching the snow fall, the fire flickering. It was silent but for the snapping and crackling and popping of the wood as it burned; the snow falling deadened all the other noises from outside. I revelled in the silence, drowsing lightly as the sun began to fade. A faint scrape as the trapdoor opened alerted me to the fact that Eric was awake, and I smiled, snuggling further into my nest; he'd join me soon.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, he joined me on the couch, slipping inside the blanket nest with me for a cuddle.

"It's snowing," I murmured, snuggling into his arms.

He chuckled. "Snowball fight?"

"No. You can move faster than me and your aim's more accurate, it wouldn't be a fair fight," I said with a yawn.

He glanced at the book on the arm of the chair. "Been reading?"

"Only the passage you marked."

His hand slid under my top, and stroked my side where, once, I'd been staked. There was barely a mark there, now, but we both remembered. "I came so close to losing you," he said softly, "so many times. It was hard to understand how precious you were to me, even as I feared for your safety."

"I was pretty scared of losing you, a time or two," I admitted. "Even though I was deeply in denial about how I felt about you."

He chuckled. "You admit that now, do you?" he teased, tickling my side lightly until I giggled.

"I admit it," I replied. "Looking back, I think I had a bit of a thing for you from day one. I was just too scared to admit it, back then."

"I never understood why you were scared of me, when you weren't of Bill," he mused. "What did I do to frighten you so badly?"

I glared at him. "You asked Bill if he was attached to me."

He looked puzzled. "So?"

"You were asking if he'd share!" I sputtered.

He laughed, softly. "No, that was your interpretation of what I said. I was merely inquiring as to the nature of your relationship. If you were a free agent, I would then be free to make advances. As it was, I wasn't, because – according to him – you weren't."

"It didn't seem to make a difference."

He shrugged. "You didn't have his scent on you, nor fang-marks. I suspected it wasn't the truth." He raised an eyebrow. "In which, I think, I was right – at least, at that point."

It was my turn to laugh. "You always have to be right, don't you?"

"So I was right, then?"

"Yes, at that stage."

"And that was what your initial fear of me was based on?" he asked, sounding at once both incredulous and amused.

"That, and your tendency to just order people around. 'You will bring your telepath to Shreveport…' kind of thing."

He frowned. "I never said that."

"Bill said…"

"Spare me; no doubt he put some kind of spin on what I said. He refused to let me deal with you directly – I can't imagine why –" I sniggered quietly, and he chuckled, "so I had to go through him. I reminded him of your promise when he tried to wriggle out of coming, but I don't believe I ever _ordered_ him to bring you. It was phrased as a polite request. Firmly delivered. Which, as his sheriff, he would be hard put to it to refuse."

"In other words, you ordered him to bring me."

"You're splitting hairs, my darling," he said comfortably. "Anyway, it's all in the past."

I shook my head, smiling. "You are just too much, sometimes."

"A gracious plenty, I think you mentioned," he purred, shifting closer so that it pressed into my back.

I wriggled back, making him growl, and he pulled my hips even further to him, rubbing against me. I suspected that talking wasn't really on his mind any more – or snowball fights, for that matter. But to my surprise, he spoke again. "But was that all? There was no other fear?"

"I was scared as hell when you threatened to torture me," I said dryly.

"Oh." I could sense his unease. "I wouldn't actually have done it."

"No?"

"Not to you, no. I hoped the threat of it would make you give up your secrets."

"We were both calling each other's bluff on that one, then, I guess."

"Mm. Anything else?" His lips brushed my neck, and I gave a sigh of pleasure.

"That you'd turn me against my will, but I know you wouldn't, now. And one other thing."

"Mm?"

"I was afraid you'd break my heart."

He went suddenly very still. "Sookie…"

"I'd get old, and you'd cast me aside. Or you'd get bored. Or…"

He turned me to face him. "You wanted to give up the happiness you could have had being with me, to protect your heart just in case there was a time I left you? Sookie…" he kissed me on the forehead, "that's crazy. Even if I was human, there'd be no guarantee that a relationship would last. Enjoy it while you can, lover."

"Says the guy who'll live forever," I sniped.

"You still worry about that? Even now?"

I shrugged. "Little bit," I admitted. "The getting old bit, anyway."

He was silent for a while. "Regular small doses of my blood will keep you fit and healthy for a very long time, Sookie. It's not something you should worry yourself about just yet. And don't forget that you're part fae – we don't know how much that will affect your life span. We can ask Niall, some time, if this worries you."

"If you can get hold of him," I sighed. "I've been trying to get hold of him for days."

He laughed. "That's Niall for you. I invited him to the Re-Launch and wedding party – I warned him he'd need to mask his scent. With any luck, he'll be able to come to see you married."

"When did you do that?" I asked.

"Woke up a bit early and texted him," he smiled. "Now, then. If I can't entice you into a snowball fight, can we at least make a snow vampire?"

I laughed, and for a while all worries seemed very far away. "I guess we could do that."

* * *

**A/N: The stanzas are from 'Sayings of the High One', part of **_**The Poetic Edda**_** – the translation I used was that by Carolyne Larrington, published by Oxford University Press, 1996. In my copy (which is actually the 2008 re-issued version) the stanzas are on pg. 27, and are numbered 95-97. 'Sayings of the High One' is sometimes narrated by the poet, and sometimes by Odin, the Norse god of wisdom; these three stanzas are meant to be the words of Odin.**


	12. 4th January

**A/N: You have to love a guy who can multi-task this well, don't you? ;-) The story is paraphrased from Roger Lancelyn Green's _Myths of the Norsemen _(as the previous one was - should have credited it, oops!).**

* * *

"Will you tell me about Billing's girl?" I asked Eric the next night. "The poem isn't really clear on what the significance is."

He chuckled. "If you wish, Miss Curiosity."

He sprawled comfortably on his stomach by the fire; I lay on my back beside him, so I could watch him as he told the story. He really was a gifted story-teller, and seemed able to bring the characters to life in the way you simply didn't get from a book. I drank in these opportunities to hear him tell the stories that he must have heard himself as a child, stories so old their origins were lost and forgotten. Some sort of magic seemed to descend when he began to weave his tales; though I knew he'd been a warrior and a chieftain's son before his turning, I wondered if he'd been lauded as a story-teller then, as well, in the long, dark Scandinavian winters.

I settled a cushion under my head for comfort, and reached up to trace the contours of his face gently. He bent his head to kiss me, and I rifled my fingers through his hair, marvelling again at its softness.

"Here, then, is the story of Vali the Avenger," he said, his voice taking on that quality that set it apart as a story. "Baldur was dead, and the shadows were gathering in Asgard. Though Ragnarok was still some time off, care sat on the faces of the Æsir, and the need for vengeance for Baldur's death was great. But none of the Æsir could raise their hands to Hodur because of their oaths; and besides, he spent all his days grieving in Baldur's palace, and all his nights secretly roaming the woods. Odin knew, though, from the prophecy of Volva, that the avenger was not yet born who would slay Hodur; he would be Vali, son of Odin, born of a mortal woman, and he would survive Ragnarok. Yet for all his arts, he could not discover who the woman could be."

I could see that would be something of an inconvenience – though a cynical part of me wondered if it wasn't just an elaborate excuse to sleep with a whole lot of mortal women. Especially given that he was already married.

"Finally, he sent Hermodur, his son and messenger, mounted on his own steed Sleipnir, to the land of the Finns, where dwelt a powerful wizard by the name of Rossthiof, who was able to see into the future. Odin warned him of Rossthiof's cruelty and cunning, and gave to Hermodur his own staff, engraved with protective runes, that he might be kept safe. This, and Sleipnir's sure-footedness, kept Hermodur safe from the traps Rossthiof had used to surround his castle, and eventually, Rossthiof himself came out to see who this stranger was. Hermodur overcame him, and bound him; and he swore oaths to tell what he knew and saw truthfully."

I wondered if he really would, but kept quiet. They did seem pretty big on keeping their promises.

"Rossthiof drew terrible Runes in the ice about his castle, and chanted incantations that would have frozen the blood of a human; the earth shook, and the sun hid her face, the storm-winds shrieked and groaned like ravening wolves and dying men. Then Hermodur looked where Rossthiof bid him, and saw a beautiful woman rising from blood-red snow, a baby in her arms. Almost at once, the child sprang to the ground, quickly becoming a youth, bearing bow and arrows. He drew an arrow, and shot it into the darkness, and for a moment it flashed like fire. Then the vision faded, and Rossthiof explained that the woman was named Rinda, daughter of Billing, King of the Ruthenes, and that she would be the mother of Vali the Avenger; and he told Hermodur that if Odin wished to woo her, he must do so in the form of a mortal man."

"Why?" I whispered.

"No idea," he whispered back with a grin.

I giggled and pushed myself up on my elbows to kiss him – though I was enjoying the story, I didn't object to a short break for kissing.

"Mm… I like your interruptions," he said with a smirk, propping himself up on one elbow and running his free hand over my stomach as if I were a lazy cat.

"Me too," I gasped as his hand drifted lower; heat burned through me as he slipped his hand beneath my clothes and started caressing me gently.

"Hermodur took word to Odin, who immediately disguised himself, and set out to the west, where King Billing ruled, and offered his services as a powerful, experienced warrior. Billing was delighted, for at that time, a great enemy was threatening to invade, and he was too weak, being elderly, to head his army. He rued that he had neither son, nor son-in-law to lead his troops for him, for his daughter Rinda desired to become one of the Valkyries, Odin's shield-maidens, and so scorned all her suitors, though she was young and beautiful, and many had offered for her hand in marriage. So Odin, though he appeared old, decreed that he would try for her hand, and show his worth by leading Billing's troops into battle."

One finger glided into me, and a tiny mew of pleasure escaped me.

"Odin defeated King Billing's enemy; and in return, the king offered him anything he could wish for. In return, Odin asked for Rinda's hand in marriage, and King Billing agreed that, if he could win her, he would give his consent. But Rinda refused him, and returned to her bedchamber, locking the door behind her. Then Odin bid Billing farewell, and set out once more on his travels; but he soon returned to Ruthenia, this time disguised as a goldsmith named Rosstheow. He made beautiful ornaments in gold and bronze, some of which he took to Rinda as pledge of love for her; but she threw them in his face in fury, saying that her love could not be bought."

His finger was moving gently, exploring and caressing, making me squirm pleasurably.

"Odin was not daunted, for he knew the importance of Vali's birth; and this time, when he returned to Ruthenia, it was in the guise of a young and handsome warrior, though with the one blemish even the Allfather of the Æsir could not disguise: he lacked one eye. Still, he attempted to woo her as a young man would woo, doing great deeds of valour in her honour, giving her precious gifts, and singing sweet, new songs of his love for her. Then it seemed that Rinda relented, as, after he sang a new song for her, she bade him come to her that night to talk with her, making him promise to keep it a secret, that none may know of their love."

He drew his thumb over me even as his finger moved in me, and I whimpered.

"Odin did as she bid, and crept through the silent palace, at last coming to where Billing's daughter lay, radiant as the sun, on her bed, with her hound tied up beside her. When it saw Odin, it barked, and she awoke, calling for help; and the whole household, who had been feigning sleep, rushed to her aid with swords and torches. Then Odin realised that kind words and an honest wooing would do little for his cause, and bethought him what he might do to win the headstrong Rinda."

He gave a little twist with his hand, and my whole back arched up as I gave a shriek of pleasure.

"As King Billing reached the door, Rinda struck at Odin, and cried out that there was a man in her room intent on doing her harm; then Odin drew his magic staff from beneath his cloak, and touched her lightly on breast and brow with it, and she fell back as if dead; and he himself sprang behind the bed-hangings and was gone before he could be discovered. When King Billing reached her, he realised she had fallen gravely ill, and was dismayed. But soon after, a wise woman named Vecha arrived at the palace and offered her services, saying that she was skilled in medicine and could cure madness."

He watched my face as he added a second finger, his thumb still gently stroking. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

"Billing appointed Vecha to Rinda's care, and after gaining Billing's trust, the old woman demanded that she be left alone with her patient from sunset to sunrise, with no one to disturb them, as she would need to practise her arts in secret. Billing agreed, and informed his household. At sunset, Vecha made her solitary way to Rinda's chamber, and flung off her disguise, revealing herself as none other than Odin the Allfather, kindly but terrible in his majesty. With his staff he awoke the princess, and the madness passed from her; and she knew who it was who stood before her."

He gave me a sly look, and added a third finger to the first two; I writhed and bucked against his hand, and he gave me a teasing grin as he moved them agonisingly slowly in and out.

"Odin spoke gently to her, explaining that, though she had long desired to become one of his Battle Maidens, his Valkyries, who rode the storm behind him and chose those who would fall in battle and dwell with the heroes in Valhalla against the Day of Ragnarok, that this could not be, for the Norns, the Fates, had set her aside for something much higher: to be the mother of the youngest of the Æsir, Vali the Avenger, who would not perish at the Last Great Battle. Then she bowed her head in submission, and her eyes filled with joy at the honour she was shown; and she held back from him no longer."

The movement of his hand speeded up a little, and a pleading sound escaped me.

"It was not long before Odin bade farewell to his mortal wife Rinda, and returned to Asgard, where his true wife, Queen Frigga, awaited him without jealousy; for she knew the decrees of fate. So the Æsir dwelt in Asgard as before, and Hodur, bearing the Shield of Darkness, still roamed the forests at night, unpunished, grieving for his brother and his sad fate. Then, one day, Heimdall, guardian of the Bifrost Bridge, saw a child bearing bow and arrows coming across the bridge, his hair uncombed and his hands unwashed. He challenged the child, who demanded to be brought before Odin; and his voice was so strange that Heimdall obeyed without question."

He furled and unfurled his fingers inside me – a sensation that was strange, but very pleasant. He looked pleased with my wide-eyed reaction, and did it again, starting up a gentle rhythm.

"He was challenged again by Hermodur, the guardian of Valhalla, but again, was allowed through; the Æsir stared, and the Einheriar, the Heroes, marvelled. Odin greeted him warmly, knowing him as his son, Vali, by the princess Rinda, born to be the avenger of Baldur's death. They asked how this might be, a child as he was; but Vali assured them that, though he was but one night old, as the prophecy decreed, he would be fully grown by nightfall. And so it came to pass that he grew before their astonished eyes into a youth, and from a youth to a man, and passed into the dark woods beyond Valhalla in search of Hodur."

His thumb started up its movement again, and I gave a whimper of encouragement.

"There, in the woods, Vali found Hodur; and despite the shield and sword he carried, Vali felled him with three arrows; when the Æsir reached the spot, Hodur lay dead, and Vali was a great and shining warrior. But down in Hela's land, Hodur passed into the shadowy hall, and sat by himself, alone and silent. Then Baldur arose, love and forgiveness on his face, and greeted his beloved brother, rejoicing that they were no longer apart; and so together they remained in Helheim without sadness or regret, until the Day of Ragnarok, when all things would be made new."

Then, with a flick of his fingers against a spot deep inside me that he seemed able to find unerringly every time, he set me free from the spell of his tale, and I cried out in release.


	13. Twelfth Night (5th January)

**A/N: Finally, some answers about the behaviour of the fairies, and the apple. But is Niall telling them everything...? Does he ever?**

* * *

I was a bundle of excitable nerves as I changed into the flattering, halter-neck dress that Pam had picked out for me. "Calm down, you're making me hungry," she griped.

I sat down in Eric's chair, and applied light makeup, my mirror propped up against his computer screen. "Sorry, I can't help it," I apologised.

She muttered something under her breath, but I knew it was just for show; actually, she'd been thrilled when Eric had told her we were getting married, and touched when I'd asked her to be on hand to help me get ready. She'd thrown herself into the whirlwind preparations like some possessed mother of the bride, not leaving even the tiniest of details to chance. She'd organised Eric to distraction (I'm not sure how or why he put up with it), insisting on every decision going through her first.

I have to admit, she was good at it – efficient and tasteful.

"Let me do your hair," she said suddenly.

"Sure." I handed her my brush, and let her play; I remembered what Eric had said about her telling him she'd wanted a sister to play with. Perhaps I was as close to that as she'd ever get.

Finally, she spun Eric's desk chair round to inspect her handiwork, and gave an approving nod. "Yes, he will like that," she said softly. She handed me my mirror, and I smiled; she'd left some of my hair loose, flowing over my shoulders, and the rest was done in the intricate braids I'd so admired.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Indira's head popped in. "We're about ready to start." She smiled at me. "Sookie, you look stunning."

"Thanks," I smiled. "All Pam's doing."

Pam tried to look modest, and failed. "Ready?" She handed me the ritual knife, wrapped in velvet.

I nodded, and took a deep breath, before following Indira out of Eric's office and into the club to take my place beside Eric, Pam bringing up the rear. It was all I could do not to throw myself at him; he'd dressed up for the occasion, too, and though I generally preferred his normal, casual look (he could wear jeans like they were Armani), he looked damned fine in his tux, his dark red shirt matching my own dress.

Sophie-Anne gave me a regal smile, and I nodded to her in greeting. In many ways, I was pleased to see her; she scared me a little (well, okay, quite a lot), but she'd genuinely cared about my cousin Hadley, and she herself had been pretty decent to me once I'd got to know her. In a cautious way, I quite liked her.

The opening ceremony was much like any other – cutting of a ribbon, speeches, photographs for the media. Thankfully, there was extra security due to the Queen's presence, so it was by invitation only, and we had no trouble with the Fellowship to mar the evening. I was pleased to see my great-grandfather there; he gave me a gentle nod and a smile; I grinned back.

Finally, the time had come. Eric was sitting on his throne, with Sophie-Anne in the throne that would normally be Pam's. Indira rang a bell for silence, and Pam gave me a little shove forwards. "Now."

I took a deep breath, and walked slowly towards the stage with the velvet-wrapped knife held out in front of me; the crowds parted around me, not knowing what was happening. Pam followed behind me, to make sure I didn't get jostled and lose my footing or drop the knife.

I took the couple of steps up onto the stage, and went down on one knee in front of Eric, the wine-dark satin of my full skirt pooling around me like a lake of blood, presenting the bundle to him. "My lord."

He looked startled momentarily that I'd used the correct title and protocol, and shot a quick grin at Pam, realising she must have coached me. With reverence, he unwrapped the knife, and held it up for everyone to see, before kissing it. "My lady," he said gravely, using his free hand to help me rise to my feet. I heard the soft hiss of intaken breaths around the room, and glanced to Pam, who was now at my side.

"Explain later," she mouthed, her eyes wide. I realised that, whatever Eric had done, it was unusual.

I glanced at Sophie-Anne, who, to my surprise, had risen from her seat, a soft look on her face. "Congratulations, my dear," she said, and motioned me to take her place. "I hope you will both be very happy." She took my hand, kissed my cheek, and placed my hand in Eric's. She turned to the crowd. "You have witnessed tonight the marriage of Eric the Northman and Sookie Stackhouse. The Kingdom of Louisiana recognises their marriage under vampire law, and none shall break it." She motioned for a large leather-bound book to be brought forward; Pam took it to her, and held it as Sophie-Anne wrote in it. "This marriage is lawful and binding," she said finally. "Unusually, Eric has foregone the usual clause of binding for one hundred years, and binds himself to his wife for whatever years are allotted to them."

I turned my head to him, surprised; he hadn't discussed that with me. He leant forward, and just before kissing me, murmured, "I want no one but you. I will stay with you till the end, whenever or whatever it is." Well, if that wasn't a commitment, I'm not sure what would be.

There was an uproarious round of applause from the gathered crowds – I guess everyone likes a good party – and people started making their way forwards in ones and twos, or small groups, to give us their congratulations. After Sophie-Anne, who left soon afterwards to return to New Orleans, came Pam.

"Congratulations, my maker," she said softly. "I'm glad to see you so happy." She turned to me, and hugged me, startling me a little. "And to you, also, my friend."

"Thank you, for everything," I said. "What was that about earlier?" I added in a whisper.

"He acknowledged you as his equal, not his minion or pet. As far as I know, no vampire has done that before."

My eyes widened, and I remembered the words he'd spoken to me as an amnesiac. _I will bring you to my side… All those who owe me fealty shall honour you._ He'd only gone and made good on his promise. I turned to look at him again, as Pam went to see to more arrangements; his look was intense. My mouth went dry, and I squeezed his hand gently. He laced his fingers with mine, and squeezed back. "You are mine," he said softly. "And I am also yours." I swallowed down the lump in my throat, and turned back to greet our well-wishers.

Finally, the very last to come, was Niall. He was carrying another apple, and I could sense Eric's surprise as keenly as my own. "Congratulations, Viking," he said, in his ethereal way. "I am pleased with the choice of my kinswoman, Sookie, to take you as her mate. As she has pledged to you under vampire law, let her do so also under Fae tradition."

I was startled, to say the least. "I'm only part Fae," I whispered to him, but he just smiled.

"Your eternal spark has been fully charged," he said serenely. "And now that I am the unchallenged Prince of the Fae, I acknowledge you here tonight openly as my kinswoman, and one of the Fae." He presented the apple to us with a flourish. "Viking, before you cut the apple, prick Sookie's skin with the knife enough to draw blood, then your own, so that your blood mingles."

Eric took up the knife, and held it gently to a fingertip, piercing enough to release a single drop of blood. He licked my finger to heal it, then pricked his own finger. "Now the apple?"

"Yes," smiled Niall, a fond look on his face as Eric cut the apple in half. "Give half to Sookie. Sookie, feed Eric your half of the apple; Eric, feed Sookie yours." It was messy, to say the least, but as I licked the juice from Eric's fingers, and he sucked mine clean gently, I felt a sense of peace and completeness wash over me. "You are Fae-bound, now," he said softly. "It is our most sacred ritual, one rarely used. May your lives be happy along the centuries you have with each other."

Eric looked up at him with hope. "Centuries?"

Niall gave a winsome smile. "We have charged her eternal spark, my kin and I, since your eating of the last apple. Your blood was charged with its magic when you ate it, Viking, so each time she took it, it strengthened her more. The second apple has stabilised it, and her own spark; your blood will continue to keep her spark charged, just as her blood will keep you nourished and strong."

I gaped at him. "_That_ was why Claudine kept coming by? And Claude?"

"Oh, yes," he smiled. "They have done well."

"I thought I was in some sort of danger," I said, with relief.

"Oh, you were," he said, as if surprised that he'd forgotten to mention it. "But Breandan and his henchmen have been defeated, so now you are safe." He bent and kissed my forehead with a fatherly air. "Congratulations to you both," he said, and promptly disappeared. As usual, I was left with more questions. Who the hell was Breandan, and what had been going on in the realm of the Fae, and why on earth had I been in danger? And recharging my eternal spark – what was all that about? We really had centuries together?

Eric looked as shocked as I was. "I think, my lover," he said softly, "we've been played."

"Mm. Looks like you're stuck with me," I replied, a little nervously.

He buried one hand in my hair, and kissed me over and over again. "I have never been so happy about anything in all my existence," he said with a smile.

If I was honest, neither had I.

* * *

**A/N: No, this is not the end - it's the beginning of the end! There's a little more to find out about what Niall and Kin have been up to ;-)**


	14. Epiphany (5th-6th January)

**A/N: In case you're interested, you can actually fly the route Eric and Sookie use, though not by Anubis Air, of course... ;-) Reindeer and cloudberry sauce is a typically Norwegian dish (and it IS delicious) - I don't know enough about Icelandic food to know if they eat it in Iceland as well.**

* * *

"Who was Breandan, do you know?" I asked Eric as we sat in the back of the cab on the way to the airport, having slipped away and left the party in full swing. Pam had packed my suitcase, not allowing me even a peek at what was inside. I had no idea where Eric had decided to whisk me off to for our honeymoon.

If I was honest, I hadn't actually expected a honeymoon at all, so I was pleasantly surprised, and had decided to just go with the flow.

"As I recall, he was the prince of the Water Fae, whereas Niall was prince of the Sky Fae. There's always been infighting between the different factions, but now that Breandan's finally gone, and Niall is the undisputed ruler, perhaps there'll be peace," he said.

"You knew about the troubles the Fae were having?"

He shrugged. "It's been going on for centuries. Most of the supes knew some of what was going on, if not all – we can't visit the Fae realm, so we get news via hearsay, or if we know a fairy. Niall sometimes kept me informed, sometimes not. He's not always the most reliable correspondent."

"You didn't know I was in danger, though?"

"No more than usual," he laughed. "I wasn't aware there was a direct threat from Breandan, no."

I was a little mollified. "So Niall's been playing everyone off against each other, then?"

He frowned. "I've never managed to understand Niall's reasons for doing anything; often they make sense only to him," he answered. "Maybe Claudine was simply encouraged to push the two of us together – perhaps Niall hoped that if I was a more permanent presence in your life, you would have a powerful protector in case Breandan attacked you, I don't know. I think she must have known that Niall was trying to charge your eternal spark, otherwise she wouldn't have spent so much time with you recently. But from what you've said, I don't think he told Claudine – or Claude, for that matter – that you were under threat from Breandan. Though who knows? He might have told her and forbidden her to tell you."

I pondered this as we checked in with Anubis Airlines, Eric's travel coffin going in the hold for the first part of the journey; the most I could glean was that the first leg was taking us to Denver, and as it would only take just under two hours, there was no need for Eric to be in his coffin.

Our flight was met in Denver by an Anubis rep who dealt with Eric's coffin (now with Eric in it – they had a special holding room where the vampires could get in and out of their coffins), who very kindly escorted me to the correct flight. I gaped as I finally saw the destination on the tickets. "Reykjavík?" I whispered, astonished. It wasn't exactly on my list of places to see before I died – but then, I'd made that list before I married a former Viking.

Thankfully, the flight – though long, and rather dull – went smoothly, and another Anubis rep helped me the other end meet up with Eric's coffin – and Eric, who was grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat – so that we could get through customs.

"Do you need to check in with the local king, or sheriff, or whatever?" I asked, yawning.

He shook his head. "All done. Iceland is very progressive, and has an online check-in system. I logged in to say I'd arrived while I was waiting for you to disembark." He showed me the text message receipt on his phone: _His Majesty King Olaf Gunnarsson welcomes ERIC NORTHMAN to the city of Reykjav__í__k. Laws pertaining to vampires can be found at vampire__.is/law__. We ask that you familiarise yourself with these. Tourist information is available on the same website. Have a pleasant stay._

"So, why Reykjavík?" I asked. "Is this where you were from originally?"

He shook his head. "No, not originally, but I own a house here now. It suits me well to have a base here, somewhere to escape to. I wanted to bring you here, to see… well, it is now your home, as well," he smiled. He guided us to the car rental office, and handed over some papers in return for a set of keys, and we trawled through the snow and ice to a surprisingly sensible-looking 4x4. "Snowy roads and sports cars don't mix," he said with a grin, seeing my surprised look.

"Any other reason you decided on Iceland as a honeymoon destination?" I asked curiously after we'd loaded our luggage in.

"Oh, yes," he replied, settling into the driver's seat. "You've heard of the 'Land of the Midnight Sun'?"

"Of course."

"In summer, the sun is in the sky day and night. The reverse is true in winter." He gave me a sidelong smile, barely taking his eyes off the road. "There are about four hours of twilight, in the middle part of the day, at this time of year. The rest of the time it's dark."

I blinked, and the penny finally dropped. "Oh," I breathed. "Perfect place for a vampire's honeymoon, then."

"It is," he agreed blandly. "I hardly need to sleep at all."

I gave a pleasant shiver of anticipation, but said firmly, "Well, you'll have to watch me sleep tonight, at least. I'm exhausted."

He chuckled. "I'll let you sleep, my darling, but we do have an appointment tomorrow afternoon."

"We do? What for?"

"You'll see."

I nodded off soon after that; Eric had put the heater on, and I was toasty-warm, despite the snow. I didn't wake up until we pulled in through a gate, which slid slowly closed behind us. There was a house lit up ahead of us, at the end of a long drive. "Yours?"

"Ours," he corrected with a quick grin. "I have a housekeeper on retainer, who has left everything ready for us." He clicked another button on his keyring, and the garage door ahead of us slid open.

"I thought this was a rental?" I asked.

"No, I just organised to pick it up from there, for the sake of convenience," he replied, closing the garage door behind us, and starting to unload. He unlocked a door in the corner of the garage, and waved me through. "The front entrance is much grander, of course, but this is more convenient, especially as you're not dressed for the cold."

"Neither are you," I said dryly, gesturing at his usual attire.

He shrugged. "Vampires don't feel the cold in the same way." He dumped the cases by the stairs, and ushered me through to an open, airy living room, with wooden floors and comfortable-looking furniture. A log fire roared comfortingly in a modern fireplace. He picked up a note from the coffee table, and scanned it briefly. "Ilsa has prepared some food for you and left some meals in both the fridge and the freezer, to be heated in the microwave. There are provisions in the cupboards, and she says to write a note of anything else you need." He grinned. "I'd let you read it, but it's in Icelandic."

I shrugged. "Just point me in the direction of the kitchen." I hesitated. "What time is it?"

He gave me a distinctly lascivious look. "Dinner time."

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously."

"Early evening. Like I said, dinner time."

"If I let you have your dinner now, I'll never get mine," I reminded him.

He gave a playful huff. "Very well. Come; I'll show you the rest of the house tomorrow, but for now, the kitchen is through here."

He sat with me, drinking a bottle of True Blood, as I ate a plateful of reindeer with cloudberry sauce and a chunk of bread (all of it delicious). I cleared up after myself, then I pottered back to the living room, where Eric was sorting through the mail Ilsa had left for him. "I hate junk mail," he grumbled. I tried to stifle a yawn, but didn't quite manage it. "I think my lovely fairy wife needs some sleep," he commented with a smile. "Let me show you our room."

It was warm and comfortable, with a huge bed. I fell asleep almost the moment my head touched the pillow.


	15. 7th January

**A/N: And Eric's real reason for coming to Scandinavia becomes clear ;-)**

* * *

Eric refused to tell me where we were going the next day, though it was clear we were heading into the centre of Reykjavík. Even though it was mid-afternoon, it was fully dark, and there were a lot of people going about their business. I didn't see the name of the building that Eric swept me into, but stopped dead when we were shown into an office with a vampire and two humans.

"You have the relevant documents from your sponsor?" the vampire (whose name was Thorgil) asked Eric, after we'd been introduced. He handed over a folder, and Thorgil checked it through. "Thank you, that's all in order," he nodded. "You may proceed with the formalisation certificate."

One of the humans – a man named Wulf – placed a register in front of us. "If you would sign here," he said to Eric, who obliged, "and here," he said to me, pointing at the place under my printed name. My eyes widened as I realised what Eric was doing, and signed where I was shown.

The second human, Bjorn, handed me the certificate. "Thank you both; your marriage is now ratified. Enjoy the rest of your day."

I blinked as we were shown out again. "That's it?" I asked, bemused.

Eric chuckled. "It's a ratification, not a marriage ceremony. That's still not been legalised anywhere, between a human and a vampire, but this is the closest we can get. It does mean that, legally, our marriage is now recognised in human law."

"And that's why Iceland?" I asked. "Not just the darkness, and having a house here?"

"That certainly had some bearing on it," he answered, taking my hand as we stepped out into the biting-cold air, and wandered along the lakeside. "Scandinavia has cashed in on vampire tourists, at least in the winter, and the whole area has been very pro-vampire because of all the money we bring in. There is much more freedom here for vampires than there is even in America." He grinned. "Also, Anubis Air flies to Reykjavík, but not to any of the other Scandinavian capitals, from the States, unless you want to have changeovers in London. I considered flying to Stockholm or Oslo via Heathrow, but decided to leave that for another trip." He squeezed my hand through my glove. "In all honesty, I wanted to get the marriage ratified in human law so that I could give you this."

He produced a box from his jacket pocket. Flipping it open, I saw that it contained a slim gold ring, engraved with runes. He peeled the glove off my left hand, placed it on my ring finger (it fit perfectly), and put my glove back on so that I didn't get cold.

"What do the runes say?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him.

"Protection," he said softly. "Mine is a little bigger and broader, but is otherwise identical."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thank you," I whispered, resting my head against his chest.

We walked along the edge of the lake for a while before turning back when I started to get cold, and went into the café attached to City Hall (where the office for ratification of vampire marriages was, I realised) to warm up. I was glad to have a hot drink, and smiled when I noticed that Eric had slipped his own ring on as well. We sat looking out of the window for a long while, until I felt warmer again, then headed back out to explore a little more.

It was still early in the evening by the time we got back to the house; I hadn't noticed the previous night that it was set back only a little from the lakeside itself, within walls that enclosed the extensive grounds on the other three sides. "Are you hungry?" asked Eric as we went inside.

I shook my head. "Not yet," I said, and he grinned.

"Come with me, then. Let me show you around properly."

I hadn't realised how big the house was until I got the guided tour – it was beautiful and comfortable, and I'd already made a note of various rooms to re-visit. One of them was a library, complete with comfy chairs and a modern flame-effect fire that looked surprisingly real but, as Eric pointed out, wouldn't be a problem as far as the books in the library were concerned. Some of the shelves were empty; when I asked him why, he grinned. "They're for your books. I asked Ilsa to pack up some of the books I didn't read often and put them in the loft to make space for you." I melted, and hugged him, snuggling even further into his arms as he pulled me closer.

By the time we'd spent some time rambling over the house, it was getting late, and I was hungry, so I heated up some food in the tiny kitchen, and carried it through to the dining room (which was almost as small; just as vampires don't have much use for kitchens, as all they use is a microwave to heat their bottles of blood and a sink to rinse them out, so they have little need for dining rooms), and ate. Eric kept me company, and told me about some of the places he thought we might visit while we were in Iceland – clearly he wanted me to be able to do some sightseeing, which I was glad about. However lovely it was that we could – if we wanted – spend all hours in bed, I'd had so little experience of travelling that I was pleased to have the opportunity to visit some of the sites. It was an added bonus that I had a guide who could remember a lot of the history from first-hand experience.

Once I'd finished my meal, and cleared away, I rejoined him in the dining room. "Tired?" he asked.

"Not really," I said, even though it was late in the evening.

He looked pleased. "Follow me, then."

I followed him to a door in part of the house we'd bypassed previously (I'd pleaded hunger before we'd got there), and my eyebrows raised as I noted the bubbling hot tub, sunken into the floor. "I had Ilsa come and get it set up while we were out," he said, starting to strip off. He slid gracefully into the water, completely naked, and beckoned to me. "Hot springs do have their uses."

I stripped off and followed him in, enjoying the feel of the water on my skin. "Sheer luxury," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He smiled. "Wait till you see this." He pressed a button on what I assumed was the outside wall, and there was a grinding noise. "Follow me," he said gleefully, diving under the water.

I followed the movement of the water as best I could. When I surfaced, I realised that we'd dived under a baffle, and were now in an outside pool, the crisp snow sparkling around us, and the steam rising off the water. We had an unobstructed view down to, and across, the lake. "Beautiful," I breathed, unable to take my eyes off the scene.

"A fitting place for you," he answered, nuzzling and nipping at my neck. I arched it for him, moaning his name as he bit and drew just a sip of blood. He offered me his bleeding wrist, and I licked it clean gently; it felt every bit as much of a ritual as our bondings and marriage. "Look," he said, pointing up; he sounded excited and awed.

I followed his finger, and gasped. "Is that…?"

"The Northern Lights," he breathed in my ear. "It is several centuries since I've seen them. You can never guarantee a sight of them, even at this time of year." He hugged me back against him. "I couldn't wish for anything more perfect than to be here with you, watching their dance," he murmured.

I stared up at them, transfixed. "Incredible," I marvelled, watching the curtains of light. "I never thought I'd get to see anything like this." I rested my head back against his shoulder, revelling in the feel of his broad chest behind me, his arms wrapped around me. "I'm so lucky," I sighed happily, gazing up at the sky.

"We're both lucky," he said softly, tightening his arms around me. "Nothing could ever compare to this."

I turned in his arms, and kissed him for all I was worth. He groaned, and pulled back, smiling. "Turn around," he whispered, and I turned back around to face away from him, giving him a curious look over my shoulder. I gave a sigh of pleasure as I felt him slide into me. "Look up, watch the Lights as I make love to you," he murmured. "I want us to remember this night forever."

I didn't think there was any chance that I could ever forget something so special, so incredible, so perfect. A low moan of pleasure escaped me as he shifted us so the jets and bubbles of warm water were more strategically placed; then gasped at the sensation as his now icy-cold fingers teased at my breasts – I hadn't seen him thrust his hands into the snow at the edge of the tub. On and on he went, playing with the different sensations of hot versus cold, bubbles and jets versus fingers, as his thrusts, too, went on and on gently, and I gasped and writhed and squirmed in his arms, my head flung back on his shoulder, gazing up at the stars and the Northern Lights as they danced across the sky.

As I neared completion, I saw his hand move from the snow to his face, so that, when his lips touched my neck, they were cold against my now over-heated skin, and I shrieked at the sensation. I shrieked – perhaps even howled – again as he sank his fangs into my neck, an incoherent string of words falling from my lips until I grabbed his hand and bit his wrist hard enough to draw blood, swallowing convulsively with every spasm of our bodies as we both found our release. In my case, at least, it was the hardest I'd ever climaxed.

Leaning back limply in his arms, the warm water and his body supporting me, I'd never felt so relaxed and happy in all my life.


	16. 8th January

**A/N: Some things just have to be nipped in the bud...**

* * *

"What's wrong?" I murmured sleepily, feeling Eric's agitation through the bond as I resurfaced from my rather pleasant dream (of hot tubs, stars, lights, and a Viking, unsurprisingly, after our celebration the previous night). I turned over to look at him; he glanced up from his phone, and gave me a reassuring smile.

"With me, nothing. You know that a maker and child have a lasting bond?" I nodded. "I'm used to being so out of range of my maker that I'm barely aware of it. It's lain pretty much dormant for decades – maybe even centuries."

I swallowed. "Has your maker… called you?" I asked hesitantly. I wondered if news of our marriage had spread; there was no knowing how Eric's maker might take the news.

He shook his head. "No, quite the opposite." He fiddled with his phone. "It's gone," he said quietly. "I felt a tug, and then... it was completely gone."

"Could he have… I don't know, blocked it, or something?"

"Not like this. No, there is only one thing that could cause this breaking of the bond." He set his phone down, and pulled me into his arms. I hugged him silently, sensing he needed the comfort. "He has met his final death," he said softly.

I swallowed. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. We weren't close, in the way that Pam and I are. I feared and loathed him, though respected and loved him to some extent as well. He was… not a kind maker," he said with a grimace. "I made my mind up, very early on, that, should I ever become a maker, I would try to be as unlike him as possible. As such, I allow Pam to defy me and argue with me; she was never taught to fear me."

I winced. "You were taught to fear him, then?"

"Fear and respect him, yes. I believe Pam respects me, but it is her affection for me that keeps her by my side now – I released her many years ago, before calling her back to help with Fangtasia. She was happy to come when I called her, and now, I think, she would stay unless I ordered her away. It comforts me to know that I have done well by her."

I rubbed his arm gently, understanding that he was thinking about how Pam would react if it were repeated the next generation down – if he were to meet his final death. "She thinks the world of you," I said softly. "She'd rip the entire universe apart if she thought it would help you in any way. And if anyone hurt you, she'd never stop until you were avenged." _And I'd probably join in and help her, _I added silently.

He smiled slightly, rubbing his cheek against the top of my head. "I'm glad that you and she are friends," he said. "One day, perhaps you will meet Karin, my other child. She and I are not so close, though I believe she, too, is fond of me." His phone beeped, and he glanced at it. "Speak of the she-devil," he smiled.

"Pam?"

He shook his head. "Karin," he replied, eyes flicking through the text message. "She's in Iceland, and so she, too, picked up on my unease, and wished to know the source of it." He fired off a message. "I have asked her to come and meet you."

I was a bit nervous about that, but smiled. "So long as she doesn't think I'm on the menu."

To my relief, he laughed. "No, she won't. I made it clear I wasn't sharing."

He was still preoccupied, so I switched on the TV, flicking through the channels until I found one I understood – sadly, only a news channel. I was about to turn it off, when the breaking news ticker on the screen showed an Anubis Air crash over the Atlantic. "Eric?"

"Mm?"

"It says here that Anubis Air flight AV1860 from Heathrow to Denver crashed over the Atlantic about an hour ago."

He hissed softly. "I wonder…"

"There's a number for folks to ring if they're worried about anyone on board."

He was already ringing it by the time I'd finished speaking. "Yes, hello. I'm calling to ask if there's any news about a vampire I believe may have been travelling on AV1860. Surname of Ocella; Appius Livius Ocella. Yes, I'm happy to hold." He drummed his fingers impatiently on the bedside table. "He was on the flight? Definitely? And there's no news of him, no coffin been found?" I bit my lip anxiously. "Could you tell me where his final destination was? No? No, of course, I understand. Thank you."

I muted the TV. "Anything useful?"

He shrugged. "He checked in, and boarded, but they've barely begun the clear-up. They're still trying to locate the black box – probably at the bottom of the sea by now," he said bitterly. "They wouldn't tell me where he was headed, or anything else. But given that he was flying to the States, he may well have been intending to pay me a visit."

"Bill's good with computers," I said hesitantly. "He might be able to… you know… get some information?"

He raised his eyebrows. "You're suggesting I ask him to hack into the Air Anubis booking system?"

I gave him a sheepish grin. "Well, you want to know, don't you?"

"And there was I, thinking you were such a goody-two-shoes," he said with a smile. He held his arms out to me, and I scooted over to snuggle up to him again. He pulled the bedclothes back over us. "I'll text him," he said, doing just that. "You're right, I do want to know."

"Does he have other family? Vampire family, I mean," I corrected myself.

"His maker is long-since gone, but I have brothers and sisters who would want to be informed as to his fate. As far as I know, I'm the oldest surviving child, so it falls to me to find out what happened so I can notify my siblings. Assuming I can find them." He grimaced. "No doubt Bill will also help with that."

"Why do you and he not get on?" I asked curiously. "It's not just about me, is it?"

Finally, he set down his phone, and laughed. "Not entirely, though you do have a lot to do with that, my lovely wife. Partly, it's because we're so very different. Bill is utterly hide-bound by rules and regulations, and the vampire hierarchy. I'm old enough that I don't give a damn about them, and there's not a lot most people can do about that. To an insecure monarch, that could be a threat, but Sophie-Anne knows I'm loyal to her, so she just shrugs and turns a blind eye. She knows I'm both useful and successful; she trusts me, insomuch as she trusts anyone. Bill likes neither the fact that I don't live by the rules of vampire society – or, indeed, any rules I choose not to abide by – and get away with it, nor the fact that Sophie-Anne listens to my advice and trusts me."

"Okay, but why don't you like him?"

He shrugged. "He's an idiot."

I smothered a laugh. "Eric, come on. There's got to be more to it than that."

He grinned. "Okay, he's a boring idiot who turned up in my bar with a beautiful woman, and proceeded to treat her like shit under my nose, and I couldn't do a damned thing about it."

I glowered. "Who?"

He rolled his eyes. "_You_, my darling."

"He didn't…" I trailed off. Only he had, hadn't he? And I'd been too blind to see it.

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You see?"

"What, you wanted to be my hero?" I teased him.

"No, I wanted to be your lover," he shot back. Then he gave a slightly self-conscious smile. "I suppose wanting to be your hero came a bit later."

"Ass," I said affectionately.

"You always said you liked my ass," he preened. "In fact, I'm sure you said it was your favourite part of me."

I giggled. "Well, it _is _a particularly fine specimen," I replied, with a flutter of my eyelashes. "So much so, I'm sure you could win awards. Hey, maybe you should have a 'rear of the year' competition at Fangtasia?"

"Why, when I would win it every year?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

"Maybe it's a cunning way for me to see more of it," I said seriously.

He chuckled. "Lover, if you want to see my ass, you need only ask. I'm quite happy to put it on display for you. But do you really want others having that view?"

I thought about that. "Well, it would make them jealous," I said thoughtfully. "But perhaps you're right. If they saw it, they might not be able to keep their hands off."

"You seem to be able to," he said archly, flopping over onto his stomach, and sending a flirtatious look up at me.

I laughed, and ran my hands over it. "How can I possibly pass up an invitation like that?" I asked. "You. Are. Stunning." I gave him an affectionate squeeze, and sprawled, stomach-down, across his back, resting my chin on his shoulder. He twisted his head round to kiss me, raising himself up on his forearms, and I wrapped my arms loosely round his shoulders. "I love you," I whispered, nuzzling into him when he pulled back.

He laced his fingers with mine, squeezing them gently. "I love you too, my Sookie."


	17. 9th January

**A/N: I've condensed two short stories into one chapter, here – again, both paraphrased from Roger Lancelyn Green.**

* * *

Eric was still a little preoccupied the next day, waiting to hear back from Bill. I understood that; I guess it was a shame it happened while we were on honeymoon, but things rarely happen at a convenient time, do they?

He stared into the fire in the living room for a long while. "You wanted to know what happened to Loki," he said, after a while.

I sat beside him on the couch, and nestled into his arms. "I did."

He nodded. "After the death of Baldur, Odin rarely smiled, and Frigga was often known to weep as she sat weaving the clouds in Fensalir, but life went on for the Æsir, much as it had done before. But the shadow of Ragnarok hung over them, dark and terrible, even as the heroes in Valhalla feasted joyfully. In Midgard, wars were waged, and the Valkyries rode to collect more and more of the slain, and the host of the Einheriar, the Chosen Heroes, grew apace."

I shivered a little at the threat of impending doom.

"Baldur and Hodur sat no more among the Æsir, though Vali was welcomed. But another face was missing; that of Loki, who had not been seen in Asgard since the death of Baldur. No vengeance had been meted out to him, but he knew it must come; not lightly would the Allfather take the death of his best-beloved son, and Loki knew that Odin, in his wisdom, would know whose hand had shaped the mistletoe dart, would know the true identity of the Giantess Thokk who alone had not wept for Baldur."

I growled a little internally. In my view, he should just have manned up and taken it on the chin, not skulked in hiding somewhere. Of course, in my view, he should never have got himself into that situation in the first place.

"Eventually, Loki tired of stirring up trouble in Midgard, and began to feel slighted that there had been no retribution for his actions, and decided to make himself known to the Æsir again. He knew that Heimdall would not allow him again across the Bifrost Bridge, but at the next harvest-time, he went to the halls of Ægir, where it was their wont to feast."

The cheek of him, I thought.

"There he sat with them; for Odin remembered his oath to Loki in the morning of time, blending their blood together as brothers. No oath-breaker would the Allfather be. Then he sat and taunted them all in turn, hurling accusations at them – even the gentle goddesses Iduna and Sif, who had done him no harm. On he went, until finally Thor the Thunderer arrived; after insulting him, also, Loki fled, for Thor was mighty, and to be feared."

Coward, I thought acidly.

"Thus was it decided that Loki must be caught and bound, and made to face his punishment at last. But Loki hid himself away, knowing he had done too much for the Æsir to leave him in peace, and he built himself a house beside the Frananger Falls. At the first sign of visitors, he would turn himself into a salmon. And this he did, when, one day, he saw a band of the Æsir coming up the mountain, with Thor in the lead. But he had made a fatal mistake; he had made the beginnings of a fishing net, to see if it were possible they might catch him , as a fish, and had tossed it in the fire in his haste when he saw them approach; but one of them saw the remains of it amongst the ashes, and guessed what Loki was about. So the Æsir set to and made themselves a fishing net."

Surely there were fishing nets before that, I thought to myself. They had swords and shields and hammers, but no fishing nets? Still, it was only a story, and perhaps their food was magical so they didn't need to fish.

"Eventually, they caught him; and as he had been caught outside the bounds of Asgard, and in no place where the laws of hospitality protected him, he knew that his fate would be a grim one. And so it proved; they dragged him to a cave, and set three sharp slabs of stone on edge, and bound him to them, one stone under his shoulders, one under his thighs, and one under his legs. To find fetters strong enough to hold him, they turned Loki's evil son Ali into a wolf, and Ali killed his brother Narfi and tore him to pieces. Out of Narfi's sinews they made thongs to bind Loki; then with magic, they turned the sinews to iron. Then, to complete the punishment, Skadi took a venomous snake and hung it above Loki's head so that the poison dripped upon him, and he writhed in pain."

I winced; they didn't do things by halves, it seemed.

"But Loki was not without one person who loved him, and that was the Giantess Sigyn. Though she could not loosen his bonds, she held a cup above his head to catch the poison, so to ease his pain; but the cup would fill, and she would have to empty it. Then the venom fell again on Loki, and he writhed in pain, and the whole earth shook and trembled. And there he lies bound, until the day of Ragnarok, when he and all others shall be loosed to fight against the Æsir in the Last Great Battle."

I was silent for a long time. "He had it coming to him," I said finally.

"He did," Eric agreed.

"What about Ragnarok, though?"

He kissed the top of my head. "It hasn't happened yet, but there are prophecies. Odin could see much of the future, so he knew what would happen."

"How did he find out?"

He chuckled. "You want another story?"

"Well, that one was short," I said defensively.

"True. I will tell you about Ragnarok, then." He settled back into the couch, and he seemed more relaxed than before. I was glad of that; I was worried about the effect his maker's final death might have on him. Eric wasn't exactly the type of guy to grieve openly, I suspected, and wouldn't welcome any suggestion that there was even anything to grieve for, given his less than comfortable relationship with his maker. But there was still some discomfort surrounding him, perhaps a sense of missing that bond that had been there for a thousand years, if nothing else.

I wriggled under his arm, and he gave a soft chuckle, holding me tightly against him.

"Even from the morning of time, Odin had known, and the Æsir, and even the dwellers in Midgard had come to know, that the world would perish one day, the day of Ragnarok, the Twilight of the Gods, the Last Great Battle. Baldur and Hodur were dead, Loki bound, and Valhalla was growing full of the Einheriar. Shadows grew over Asgard, and the Giants murmured threateningly from their homes in Jotunheim. In Midgard, too, men turned towards the evil that Loki had taught them. Much Odin knew of what was to befall; but there was yet more he knew not, and he sought this knowledge ever more insistently. But none could he find to tell him; even the Norns, if they knew, would not speak of that day."

The Norns were the Fates, I reminded myself, remembering the name from a previous tale.

"Here and there were born women who could glimpse the future, some with powers of sight far surpassing those of any other creature. Volva had been one such, she whom Odin had consulted with on the death of Baldur. Another such was named Haid in Midgard, though in Asgard they named her Vola, the sibyl; and her wisdom surpassed that even of Volva. So Odin travelled to visit her, in disguise; but her wisdom was such that she knew him immediately."

I grinned to myself – Odin seemed to like disguises. I wondered if they were any better than Eric's, which seemed to be just putting on a suit, and maybe a pair of unneeded glasses.

"Odin asked her to tell him of the World's Ending, and stood behind her, chanting runes so that his wisdom might mingle with hers. And she began to speak, telling him what she saw. First would come the Fimbul Winter, when evil had overrun Midgard; snow would come driving from all quarters, the frost would not break, the winds would bite, and the sun would give no respite. For three years it would last. Then the Wolf Skoll would swallow the Sun and the Moon, and the stars would be quenched with blood. The earth would shake, the trees would be torn up, and all things come to ruin and death."

They didn't do their apocalypses by halves, either, I thought to myself, shivering.

"Then the cocks will crow, in Jotunheim and Asgard, and the bonds will be loosened that bind Fenris Wolf, Jormungand the Midgard Serpent, Naglfar, the ship made of dead men's nails. The skies will be rent, and the Sons of Muspell will come in fire, led by Surtur with his flaming sword. They will ride across the Bifrost Bridge, and it will break beneath them. Loki will be set free, and will lead the Frost Giants into battle; all Hela's champions will follow him."

I rather wished they'd just killed Loki, and had done with it, rather than punish him – then was surprised at myself for my blood-thirstiness. But it was only a story, right?

"Then Heimdall will blow the Giallar Horn, and the brave and true come to fight against the Giants. Odin will ride to Mimir's well for the last time, and Yggdrasil, the World Tree, will shake; the Æsir will don their armour and ride to battle. Odin will lead the forces on Sleipnir, the spear Gungnir in his hand. Odin will ride against Fenris Wolf, and beside him the mighty Thor, wielding his hammer Miolnir, will stand against Jormungand. Frey will fight against Surtur, and perish; Tyr against Garm, and they will die together. Thor will overcome Jormungand, but the venom will lay him low. Fenris Wolf will overcome the Allfather, but Vidar will avenge his father; he will tear apart the jaws of the ravening wolf. Loki will battle Heimdall, and both will fall. Then Surtur will spread darkness and fire over the earth, and all things will perish."

I gulped; so much loss, so much waste.

"Haid the Vola could see no more, but it seemed to Odin that her power crept into him and he saw with her two eyes. A waste of water, he saw, turbulent, tossing over the earth; but then a new earth rose out of the sea, green and fruitful, and washed clean. On Ida's plain, where Asgard had stood, he saw Vidar and Vali, survivors of the Battle; Magni and Modi, the sons of Thor, came forth to join them, Thor's hammer in their hands. Then the earth opened, and forth came Baldur, leading Hodur by the hand, and they greeted each other. Lastly, out of Vanaheim, came Honir, bringing great wisdom to the new Æsir; and new halls were built on Ida's plain, waiting for the souls of the dead. For not quite all had perished in Midgard; in a secret place, a man and a woman had escaped Surtur's fire, and their children re-populated the earth, and came in time to Asgard when their souls departed them. And the world was filled again with light and song."

I felt a little like crying; though there was a good end, I felt a pang of loss for the characters I'd come to know and love – Odin, Thor, Heimdall.

"Odin wept with joy, seeing that Ragnarok was not the end, but a new beginning; and he faced his doom with a gladder heart, knowing what was to befall. So he returned, cheered, to Asgard, and brought the news to the Æsir. And now he understood the meaning of the word he had whispered to Baldur as he lay in death on his funeral ship: the word 'Rebirth' which was to bring comfort and hope to the Men of Midgard, even as it did to the Æsir of Asgard."

We sat in silence for a long time. "Thank you," I whispered.

He smiled. "No matter how dark the times," he replied, "there is always hope. So my people believed. Even after the darkness of Ragnarok will come renewal and rebirth; and if there is hope after the greatest calamity of all, so there must be hope in the foreshadowing of it."


	18. 10th January

**A/N: Introducing Karin :-)**

* * *

It was snowing when I woke, and Eric was nowhere to be seen, but I could hear the faint rise and fall of voices, and after a quick shower, hurried down to the living room to find him talking to a blonde woman. He looked up as I entered, and smiled. "Sookie, my lover, come and meet Karin."

I nodded to her in greeting, and she inclined her head to me. "Greetings. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. My maker has been telling me the story of your wooing."

I didn't know quite what to say to that, so I just smiled politely. She took a sip of her bottled blood.

"The fae have been taking much interest in the two of you of late," she went on, as if musing to herself. "I can understand that they would have an interest in one of their own, but in a vampire? That is unusual, to say the least. It puzzles me."

"It puzzles me, too," I admitted, glancing at Eric.

"And I, also, wonder what game they're playing," he said softly. "I do not believe for a minute Brigant told us all he knew at our wedding; enough to appease us for the time being, perhaps, but no more. I cannot help but feel we are somehow part of a larger game plan; pawns on the fairies' chessboard."

"Where you would prefer to be the King, or the Knight?" asked Karin shrewdly.

"No, no; the player," he corrected her. "I do not like not knowing what the ultimate goal is. And though if Niall was correct that Sookie's eternal spark is charged, and she now has the life span of a full fae, I rejoice in that, I cannot help but consider that they may have… other plans. I can only hope that they are no darker than those already acknowledged."

"They'd hardly give me what amounts to immortality, if they were going to turn around and kill me," I objected.

"True; and that Niall said you would have centuries of life with me gives me hope, because the fae cannot lie," he said. "But they do not always speak the _whole_ truth, and for that, I distrust their words."

"A singular puzzle," said Karin thoughtfully. "One which only the fae themselves may answer, I think, and perhaps in time you will discover what their plans have been, for good or ill. But tell me, what of your maker? You said he had met his final death. I heard about the plane crash, of course, but paid it little mind, as I had no cause to think I knew anyone aboard. He has perished, for certain?"

Eric nodded. "He is gone; the bond is no longer dormant, but simply absent."

To my surprise – she didn't seem to be an emotional person, at all – she winced. "I know he was not such a maker to you as you are to me," she said softly, "and for your sake, I regret that. But still, I can only imagine… should you meet your final death one day, and that bond be gone…" she shook her head. "I would miss knowing you were somewhere in the world," she said quietly, thoughtfully. "Miss knowing that, one day, our paths would cross again, that you might call me to your side, that I might call on you for aid. Yes, it would pain me, were that bond to vanish, one day. I hope it may never come to pass."

There was a shimmer of red in the corners of his eyes, but he blinked, and smiled, and the tears didn't fall. "I am honoured to hear it," he replied.

"You have always done well by me," she said. "And no doubt my sister Pam would say the same."

I found myself warming to her, knowing how much it meant to Eric to hear those words from his child. Clearly, she was every bit as fond of him as Pam was; her support would, I hoped, help him to move past his conflicted feelings about his maker's final death. There was only so much I could do, having so limited an understanding of the child-maker bond; I was out of my depth on this one.

"I am lucky to be bonded to three such women," he said.

Surprisingly, Karin laughed. "You are, but you have made your own luck, wily as you are; you chose us as your children, my sister and I; you chose your bonded for your wife and helpmeet."

"But the Fates brought us together," he smiled in return.

"Perhaps that's so. Be that as it may, you have our love and support. May good fortune continue to be yours." She set down her now empty bottle. "I thank you for your hospitality," she said formally, nodding to us both. "Eric, if you have need of me, you have my number. Though I have been glad, these past centuries, to have my freedom and independence, since you released me, I will always be happy to return to your side. I have long been considering travelling to visit you and my sister; perhaps I will do so once my business here is finished."

"I will be glad to welcome you," he smiled, standing as she did. He kissed her on the forehead. "Thank you for coming here today; I was glad to see you. It has been too long."

"It will not be so long until the next time," she promised him. "I hope also that I might get to know you better," she said, turning to me. "I am pleased to have met you at last." To my surprise, she kissed me on the forehead, much as Eric had kissed her, and strode to the door. I tried not to look surprised as she strapped a sword to her back before stepping out into the swirling snow, pulling a white snood over her head. "Until we meet again," she called back, and took off into the storm.

"She'll be okay in the snow?" I asked anxiously.

Eric chuckled. "She revels in it," he answered. "She always was a wild thing, headstrong and wilful. I used to call her my little Valkyrie," he remembered fondly. "She will ride on the wings of the storm tonight, no doubt; she once said that the greatest gift I gave her was my ability to fly."

"I liked her," I said softly, looking out into the snow; she was already far out of sight. I shivered, and shut the door.

"I'm glad of it," he replied. "I'd hoped you would be friends as much with her as with Pam. I think she liked you, as well, though she is not demonstrative about these things."

"She seems very fond of you."

He smiled. "As a grown-up child, who has long since moved away and made a life of their own, still loves the parent that gave them life, yes. Our paths don't cross so much now as they once did, but she still holds me in affection." He checked his phone, and frowned.

"What is it?"

"Text from Bill, from a couple of hours ago – I was talking to Karin, and didn't see it until now."

"What does he say?"

"Appius was on his way to Oklahoma, not Louisiana," he muttered. "Though why, he can't tell, of course. Perhaps he had some business interests there – Bill is looking into that as a possibility, he says. And he's emailed me a list of my siblings to notify them, under separate cover." He gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, my lover; I must notify them of his final death. I know this isn't how we'd intended to spend the day."

I wrapped my arms around his waist, and hugged him. "It's okay; sightseeing in a snow-storm doesn't appeal that much anyway. You do your vampire thing, and I'll go and read in the library."

He kissed me softly. "Thank you for understanding."


	19. 11th January

**A/N: And we find out why Appius was off to Oklahoma - but that won't come as a surprise to anyone...**

* * *

I realised something was wrong when I woke up, and found Eric was prowling furiously around the bedroom, muttering to himself in old Norse. "Eric? What is it?"

He immediately switched into English. "That utter bastard was trying to sell me into marriage," he spat furiously. "I've just had an email from Pam. Sophie-Anne called her to find out if I knew anything about the matter, as she knew I wasn't in the country. Apparently, he was on his way to Oklahoma to sign a contract for my marriage."

"He could have done that?" I asked, surprised.

Eric hissed. "I'm married to you, thrice-bonded, fae-bonded, and our marriage is recognised in human law. It would have been virtually impossible to have negated all those things. But had it _not_ been for that, yes, he could have done."

"But he… he didn't sign the contract. Did he?" I asked, suddenly afraid that this happiness I'd just found would be ripped away from me.

"No," he said, calming a little. "No, no, he never got there. But the Queen of Oklahoma petitioned Sophie-Anne to uphold the contract."

"She did _what?_" I shrieked. "But…"

"Hush, my lover, all is well," he soothed me. "Sophie-Anne has informed her that she will not be allowing that marriage contract. You have been acknowledged as one of the fae, and Sophie-Anne is not so rash as to risk war because Niall feels his kinswoman has been slighted, amongst other things."

I sat silently for a moment. "Do you think he knew?" I asked, after a long while.

Eric stared at me for a good minute. "It's possible," he said finally. "I've no doubt he has spies everywhere; in his position, so would I. Perhaps this business of throwing us together was to protect your interests, should that contract ever be signed. Only a fool would risk all-out war with the fae."

"What if it's not real?" I whispered.

Eric was by my side in an instant. "Sookie, what I felt for you was real, even before we were bonded. It was not the bonding that made me love you; it was my love for you that made me want the bond." He pulled me into his arms. "This is all conjecture, anyway, lover. The fae may be unaware of the contract; there may be other forces in play we know nothing about." He kissed me. "It's real, lover," he said softly. "This is real." He touched the ring on my finger. "Trust in this."

I nodded, and gave a shaky laugh, hugging him back. "I'm sorry. I just… the last couple of days, it's been such a roller-coaster," I said.

He hugged me tightly. "I know, my darling, and hopefully this will be the last of it. Sophie-Anne has upheld our marriage, and will not dissolve it, so Pam's email says. The contract, without my maker's signature on it, is nothing but a piece of paper with idle scribblings on it. No matter how much Oklahoma might bluster and threaten, she knows there is no law that will uphold her claim; the prior claim is yours, and there's nothing she can do about that."

"She'll be pissed, though, won't she?" I said glumly.

"Probably," he said quietly. "And it would be as well for you to be extra-careful in case she decides to target you. But according to Pam's email, Sophie-Anne is trying to negotiate some kind of deal to mollify her, so perhaps it will work out in our favour in the end." He kissed the tip of my nose. "Remember, my lover, there is always hope, even through the dark days of the Fimbul Winter and Ragnarok itself. And this is nothing like Ragnarok."

I snuggled into the comfort of his embrace. "You were angry and upset," I said quietly. "I was worried that… that… you'd be taken from me."

He chuckled. "I was angry and upset because I felt betrayed by my maker; though a maker has rights over their children, I still have no liking for the idea that I could be sold into marriage like a common slave. Wouldn't you be angry, too?" I nodded. "And I had no way to vent that anger; Appius is dead, and beyond my reach." He sighed. "Perhaps that's just as well."

A nasty though occurred to me. "It was conveniently timed, that air accident, wasn't it?" I said quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if it wasn't an accident?" I held my breath; his eyebrows drew into a frown.

"Yes," he said softly. "You are right. I had assumed that, as it was an air accident, it was no more than that. But it is too much of a coincidence for us to rule out foul play. What did you think, my lover? A bomb on board, perhaps?"

"I don't know, I hadn't got that far," I admitted. "But the plane went down over the Atlantic, so there'd be no knowing what damage would be caused to the travelling coffins; and even though they might float on the sea for a while, there'd be no cover from the sunlight, would there?"

He shuddered. "No. If the coffins were damaged, the vampires would burn." He sat, considering, for a moment. "It seems too amateur for an assassination attempt, such as you were thinking of," he said finally. "There could be no guarantee that the vampire in question would be on board, or would be unfortunate enough to meet his final death; there are too many variables. No; if I were planning an assassination, this would not be the way to do it. I think it more likely that there is some other explanation. An attack by the Fellowship of the Sun, perhaps, to kill as many as possible; perhaps an inside job. But I don't think this was a personal attack against Appius. Perhaps we will never know."

"But we'll be okay, won't we?" I asked anxiously.

"Yes, my lover," he smiled, nuzzling my neck and nipping gently. "We'll be fine."

I really hoped he was right about that.

"Nonetheless," he said with a sigh, "I think we must return home. Sophie-Anne is regretful, but adamant that she requires us in Louisiana."

I groaned. "Why?" I whined. "We've only been here a few days. There were so many more things I wanted to see and do."

"I know, my lover," he said. "But she is insistent. We can always come back, perhaps next year. We could even come for New Year," he coaxed.

"What does she need you for?" I pouted, though I was pleased with his suggestion.

To my surprise, he laughed. "Actually," he said with a grin, "I think it's your telepathy she wants."

I swore.


	20. 12th January Part 1

**A/N: If you happen to have been counting, it's twice nine days since they ate the first apple... not a significant part of the plot, just useless trivia ;-)**

* * *

Less than a week after our departure on honeymoon, we were back in Shreveport. I was still peeved about our holiday being cut short, despite Eric's reassurances that he would take me back to Iceland for a longer break for New Year, to celebrate our anniversary. I was glad to see Pam waiting to pick us up; it was still early in the evening, so I hadn't been sure if she'd be able to get there. Eric emerged from his coffin once we were safely through customs, and arranged for it to be delivered home, with all our luggage, as we headed off to Fangtasia.

"What news of Oklahoma?" he asked Pam tensely as she drove.

"She's an arrogant bitch," she replied easily, "but Sophie-Anne is dangling a carrot in her face that she's finding it hard to resist."

"Oh?"

"Arkansas," she said with a grin. "Sophie-Anne knows that she's likely to get Nevada, given that she holds de Castro prisoner in New Orleans, and she's currently running the show in Nevada anyway; so she can afford to give up Arkansas, as the less wealthy kingdom. She's suggested Freyda become the Queen of Arkansas, and that they form an alliance of mutual support. That way, Oklahoma increases her standing, by having Arkansas under her belt, and has the might of Louisiana and Nevada to help protect her interests - and, of course, we'll be able to call on them."

Eric smiled to himself. "Well played, my Queen," he murmured. "I'd expect nothing less. So why has she recalled us?"

"To help sort out the details," Pam answered. "She knows you are cunning, Eric, and will strike a hard bargain; and she knows that Oklahoma's aides will be attended by humans, so she wishes to have Sookie on hand to keep an ear out, in case there is any suggestion of foul play. Oklahoma will _not _be attending; Sophie-Anne is concerned that tensions might be running a little too high, and has insisted that neither monarch will be present. She's trusting you to negotiate the best deal possible with Freyda's second."

Eric nodded. "I suspected it might be something along those lines. She didn't think of marriage herself?"

Pam shrugged. "Perhaps she's keeping her options open. After all, there is still de Castro; she might think to marry him, if she can get a good deal out of him."

"True," he conceded. "He might agree to marriage to avoid the trial."

"I think, though," Pam said thoughtfully, "after the business with Arkansas, she is in no hurry to re-marry."

"No, it ended badly," he acknowledged. "It would not surprise me if she were wary."

"Hence insisting on your presence for this agreement, no doubt," she mused. "She is right to be cautious."

"Indeed."

It felt all too familiar to be pulling into Fangtasia's parking lot again, and I gave a sigh as I got reluctantly out of Pam's car. "When do we go?" I asked wearily.

"Tomorrow night," said Pam distastefully, "which gives you precious little time to recover and pack suitable clothing. I will start seeing to those things for you." Once Eric and I were out of the car, she drove off again.

"So why are we here, then, not getting ready to go?" I asked Eric, mystified, once we were alone.

"There are briefings and de-briefings to handle," Eric answered. "Pam and I covered what we could, but Sophie-Anne will want to talk to me before tomorrow night. Possibly also to you." He held the door of his office open for me, and followed me in. "She will call in an hour or so; that's her normal time."

"Excellent! I have things to discuss with you," said another voice, and I jumped; Eric whirled round, fangs down, until he saw who it was, and shook his head reprovingly.

"You should know it's unwise to ambush a vampire in his own den," he said lightly.

My great-grandfather merely smiled gently. "I came armed, in case of an attack," he said, touching the sword that was at his left hip, and the dagger at his right.

Eric narrowed his eyes. "You threaten me?"

"No more than you threatened me."

Eric glared at him for a long moment, then finally relaxed, the stand-off over. "To what do we owe this pleasure, then?" he asked.

"The magic of the number three," smiled Niall, looking as though he was a child on Christmas morning.

Eric and I looked at each other blankly, then at Niall. "I don't think I quite follow, great-grandfather," I said gently. I loved my great-grandfather dearly, but he had a tendency to talk in riddles half the time.

"The apples, of course," he said, with a benevolent smile, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "There has to be a third. All good things come in threes." He presented us with a large, juicy-looking apple.

Eric and I exchanged looks again. "Will it harm her?" he asked in a hard voice.

"No, of course not," replied Niall, looking and sounding shocked. "She is my own flesh and blood. It will harm neither you, nor her. Eat it, now, and I will explain."

"You couldn't explain _before _we eat it?" I asked tentatively.

"No," he said firmly. "No, you must eat it first." He took it up, and sliced it with his dagger.

"Is that glass?" I asked curiously, seeing the strange glinting of the light on the blade.

He shook his head. "Crystal," he said. "The hilt is gold. It is a ceremonial dagger, not one for warfare."

"And the sword?" asked Eric, amused.

"Is a genuine sword," smiled Niall, though his voice had an edge to it. He handed us perfect halves of the apple. "Eat."

Nervously, I began to eat my share, as Eric ate his; Niall watched us eagerly, almost hungrily, and sat back with a sigh as the last morsel was eaten.

"It is done," he said with satisfaction.

"_What's _done?" I asked.

"The apples are not all they seem," he said, in his ethereal way. "They are magical."

"I know," I said. "You told me that, when you brought me the first one; you said it was one of the Apples of Iduna."

He shook his head. "I never said that." Eric's head whipped up, and he stared at Niall, who looked back at him calmly.

"But…" I began. "I remember, you said…"

"I said to tell the Viking that's what it was," he said gently. "I never said it actually _was_ one of them."

I shot an appalled look at Eric; his mouth was set in a grim, hard line.

"I think," he said, his voice controlled, but shimmering with anger as he glared at my great-grandfather, "you had better explain."


	21. 12th January Part 2

**A/N: Last chapter! Yes, I know there are unanswered questions; it's quite deliberate, and leaves room for further stories in this arc if, at any point, I decide to continue. However, we're well past Christmas by now, and so this is where this story ends.**

* * *

I felt like crying, but at the same time, I was angry that Niall had tricked me into believing him, tricked me into tricking Eric. "Why did you do this?" I whispered, feeling betrayed. "I _trusted _you. I believed you."

"Never trust a fairy," said Eric coldly. Something inside me seemed to shatter. We'd been so happy – what was happening, why had Niall done this?

"You misunderstand," said Niall. "Whose apples they are is irrelevant. No matter if they're Iduna's or Pomona's or apples from Avalon; the point was the magic held within them. Giving them a name was only a way of helping you to understand the magic."

I stared at him. He really didn't see that he'd done anything wrong.

"And what is this magic?" asked Eric harshly. "No doubt it will further your own ends."

Niall looked genuinely hurt. "Viking, I care for my great-granddaughter more than you can imagine; there is nothing I wouldn't do to protect her and assure her happiness. This was done for her sake, not mine. It is true that I benefit in some ways, but it was not my objective."

"Then what was it?" he demanded furiously.

Niall sighed. "You are angry; I do not understand why. I have given you both a great gift."

Eric's eyes were glittering with anger; he was barely controlling it. I huddled into a ball, and whimpered; his eyes flashed towards me, and he turned back to Niall. "If you explained," he snarled, "perhaps we would understand."

Niall blinked. "Of course. I said I would explain." He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "The first apple you shared, on Christmas Day, was imbued with the essence of the Fae, and it began to charge Sookie's essential spark. The visits she received from Claude and Claudine aided that process, as did her bonding with you; your blood was also charged with fairy magic, so it fed the spark as well."

"And did this lead to her accepting the bond? Initiating the second bond, wanting the third?" I was glad Eric had asked that; I didn't dare, but was terrified that it might all have been an illusion, something forced on me.

Niall looked surprised. "No, of course not. She bonded with you because she loves you. The apples have no effect on that."

"Why did Claudine push me towards the bonding, then?" I whispered.

He shrugged. "Claudine wanted you to be happy. I told her she must not, on any account, let it be known that she was there to make sure your essential spark was being charged, so perhaps she thought to use it as an excuse. She was also there to make sure none of Breandan's supporters reached you and harmed you."

"Why would they have wanted to harm her?" asked Eric. His voice was a little softer, but I dared not look at him.

"Because I love her, and he was my enemy," he sighed. "Also, Breandan wanted to 'cleanse' the world of all those who are only partially fairy. As such, she was in danger."

"You might have endangered her more by charging her essential spark," Eric pointed out silkily.

"That was why Claudine was forbidden to mention it; the less that was known about it, the better."

Eric drummed his fingers on his desk. "Carry on," he said softly.

Niall frowned; I guess he didn't like being ordered around. "As I said at your wedding," he said stiffly, "the second apple stabilised Sookie's essential spark, as it had had time to be fully charged, thanks to Claudine's visits, and your own blood. Each mouthful of her blood that you have taken has recharged the fairy magic within you, also; it formed an endless cycle of renewal."

"Yes," said Eric, his voice and face giving nothing away. "I remember you said this. And what of the third apple?"

Niall sat silently for a moment. "The third is not so much for Sookie, Viking, but for you. Though my intention was that it should be for her benefit as well."

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"You carry fairy magic within you, now," he said. "There are things possible to you that were not possible before. Things you had not thought to hope for. The second apple was not enough to stabilise Sookie's spark and give you all those things; therefore you needed the third."

"And what are these things?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"As with all things, great gifts must come in threes," smiled Niall. "First of all, I have given you the most precious thing to me in all the world." He sent a tender look in my direction. "I gave you my great-granddaughter's hand in marriage, without demur, though I could have forbidden it. But her heart was yours, and I allowed it."

I scowled. Excuse me? Forbidden it? I'd marry who I damn well chose, thank you very much.

"Secondly, I give you the gift of the sky fae, to walk unharmed by the sun." Eric's head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. I gasped; for a vampire to walk in the sun… Niall wasn't kidding when he said it was a great gift.

"I am honoured," said Eric stiffly. Nobody likes to be proved wrong, especially someone as proud as Eric.

"Lastly," said Niall, smiling, "and I admit, this is as much for Sookie as for yourself, I give you the gift that the apples themselves are said to bring." We both looked at him, puzzled. "They were ever the fruits of fertility," he said softly. "For each seed of the apple you have swallowed between you, there is a chance for a child to be born. Assuming five pips per apple, that's a possibility of fifteen children." He gave a happy smile. "I hope one day to hold my great-great-grandchildren in my arms."

Eric's mouth snapped shut.

"Fifteen?" I said weakly.

Niall looked surprised. "You have the lifespan of the fae, now, my dear," he said. "You have centuries in which to bear children, and you will never age. You will be young and beautiful forever."

"Yes, but _fifteen?_" I spluttered.

"Only taken as an average," Niall assured me. "There may have been more or fewer. Though it is not uncommon for the fae to bear twins, even triplets, so there could easily be more than fifteen."

To my surprise, irritation, and relief, Eric was trying to suppress a chuckle. "There are no other secrets to tell?" he asked Niall.

"No, no; that is all as regards the apples," he said. I noticed that he didn't mention anything about Appius and Oklahoma; perhaps it would be best not to mention them, given Eric's already dangerous mood. Niall gave a puckish smile. "Am I forgiven?"

Eric glared at him, but with less animosity than previously. "In light of your gifts," he said, "I suppose it would be ungracious of me not to forgive your manipulation of my wife, that wounded her so deeply – if she also forgives it."

I blinked, surprised by Eric's words. "I forgive you," I said. My great-grandfather kissed my forehead, and nodded to Eric, before taking his leave.

I turned to Eric once Niall had gone. "I didn't realise," I said awkwardly.

"I know," he said, pulling me into his arms. "That's why I was so angry with him; he took advantage of your trust in him, your love for him, and manipulated you, betrayed your trust."

I laughed shakily. "I thought you were angry with me for tricking you."

He looked appalled. "_No,_ lover," he said, holding me tightly, "I knew this was not your doing, that Niall had tricked you, and you had acted in good faith." He smiled. "Perhaps I was a little angry with myself for falling for it, for not questioning more deeply; I should have known that the Apples of Iduna were not lightly bought or given." He kissed me. "I didn't blame you for a moment," he reassured me. "You had no way of knowing these things. I only worried that you'd been wounded by it, would feel your great-grandfather had used you to achieve his own ends."

"I guess I'm a bit upset about that," I said, "though I can't deny I like the outcome. But I'm mad with him for tricking me into tricking you. I wouldn't have…"

"Hush," he murmured. "I know you didn't mean to."

I snuggled into his arms. "There's just one thing, though."

"What's that?"

"If there's a chance of us having fifteen or so children, we are _so _going to have to talk about family planning."

He threw back his head and laughed.


End file.
